.u^ ^« 



Zhe 

TRAGEDY 



^'Mi'^ 



JOHN 
MASEFIELD 



/^W^ 



.>:iittii98ttliiii;. 




Class Jl'Jl-Mas 

Book -.A 1 7 T *^ 





1. This shows the bore or tide in distance advancing toward the 

piles like a line across the river. Sandbank on left 

2. Shows the tide advancing 

3. The tide reaches the pile 



1 




4. and advances 

5. almost obliterates sandbank and piles 

6. Covers sandbank and piles 

7. Fills up the river bed. Taken 4 minutes after No. 1 of this series 



THE TEAGEDY OF NAN 



By 
JOHN MASEFIELD 



Rosas 

Gallipoli 

Right Royal 

The FaithftjIj 

Selected Poems 

Lost Endeavour 

A Mainsail Haul 

Reynard the Fox 

Captain Margaret 

The Daffodil Fields 

The Old Front Line 

Multitude and Solitude 

The Story of a Round-House 

and Other Poems 
Good Friday and Other Poems 
Salt Water Poems and Ballads 
The Everlasting Mercy and The 

Widow in the Bye Street 
Philip the King, and Other Poems 
The Tragedy of Pompey the Great 
Lollingdon Downs and Other Poems 
The Locked Chest and The Sweeps of 

Ninety-Eight 
The Tragedy of Nan and Other Plays 




'The tide. The tide coming up the river." 



THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 



JOHN MASEFIELD 



NEW ILLUSTRATED 
EDITION 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1921 

All rights reserved 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 






COPTBIGHT, 1909, 

Bt JOHN MASEFIELD. 



New illustrated edition published September, 1921. 

'boo \ \ -x 



Press of 

J. J. Little & Ives Company 

New York, U. S. A. 



To 
W. B. YEATS 



AUTHOE'S NOTE 

Tragedy at its best is a vision of the heart of life. 
The heart of life can only be laid bare in the agony 
and exultation of dreadful acts. The vision of 
agony, or spiritual contest, pushed beyond the limits 
of the dying personality, is exalting and cleansing. 
It is only by such vision that a multitude can be 
brought to the passionate knowledge of things ex- 
ulting and eternal. 

Commonplace people dislike tragedy, because 
they dare not suffer and cannot exult. The truth 
and rapture of man are holy things, not lightly to be 
scorned. A carelessness of life and beauty marks 
the glutton, the idler, and the fool in their deathy 
path across history. 

The poetic impulse of the Renaissance is now 
spent. The poetic drama, the fruit of that impulse, 
is now dead. Until a new poetic impulse gathers, 
playwrights trying for beauty must try to create 
new forms in which beauty and the high things of 
the soul may pass from the stage to the mind. Our 
playwrights have all the powers except that power 
of exultation which comes from a delighted brood- 
ing on excessive, terrible things. That power is 
seldom granted to man; twice or thrice to a race 
perhaps, not oftener. But it seems to me certain 
vii 



Vlll AUTHOR'S NOTE 

that every effort, however humble, towards the 
achieving of that power helps the genius of a race 
to obtain it, though the obtaining may be fifty years 
after the strivers are dead. 

This country tragedy was written at Greenwich 
in February, March, and September 1907. Part of 
it is based upon something which happened (as I 
am told) in Kent about a century ago. As I am 
ignorant of Kentish country people I placed the 
action among a people and in a place well known 
to me. 

JOHN MASEFIELD. 

^th April 1911. 



PREFATORY NOTE 

I began to write this play either at the end of 
1906 or the beginning of 1907. I began it upon a 
fable that had been given to me in conversation, as 
something that had occurred in Kent about a cen- 
tury ago. A barrister in looking through some 
papers had found mention of a case in which a man 
had been hanged for sheep-stealing. After his exe- 
cution, proof came to hand that he was innocent. 
Someone, or some institution or department, thought 
to remedy the matter by giving money to the man's 
daughter, "but it was then too late of course." That 
was the story as it was first told to me. 

Thinking it over, I decided to write a play upon 
this fable, partly because I was then feeling acutely 
the horror of miscarriage of justice, and partly be- 
cause I saw in the fable an opportunity of writing 
of every side of a woman's character. As the fable 
in itself seemed not enough, I invented the further 
matters of an unhappy love and harsh surroundings. 
I laid the scene of the play at an imaginary farm- 
house in the hamlet of Broad Oak, on the brink of 
the Severn, near Newnham-on-Severn in Gloucester- 
shire. 

The mention of the Tide in the last Act may need 
a few words of explanation. The Severn is a tidal 

ix 



X PREFATORY NOTE 

river, in which a Bore or Eager forms at high water, 
owing to the channel being too narrow for the 
volume of water rushing in. The tide, being con- 
stricted or pent in, is heaped up, so that it advances 
much as I describe it, in a wall of water across the 
river, two or three feet higher than the level of the 
stream up which it comes. As it advances, it roars 
like an express train. The certainty and fatality of 
its march make it a very noble and very terrible 
sight. 

I have to thank Messrs. Tilley & Son, of Led- 
bury, in Herefordshire, for taking the photographs 
with which this volume is illustrated, in the cold 
and wet of an early wild March morning. 

JOHN MASEFIELD. 



LIST OF ILLUSTEATIONS 

"The Tide, the Tide, coming up the river" 

Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

A Scene on the Farm at Broad Oak ... 10 

On the Way to the Hamlet 22 

At Broad Oak 32 

On the Green 44 

The Lanes, Broad Oak 56 

At Broad Oak 64 



THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 



THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 

PERSONS PLAYED BY 

Jenny Pargetter .... Miss Mary Jerrold 
Mrs. Pargetter .... Mrs. A. B. Tapping 
William Pargetter . . . Mr. Horace Hodges 
Nan Hardwick . . . Miss Lillah McCarthy 

Dick Gurvil Mr. A. E. Anson 

Artie Pearce Mr. Percy Gawthorn 

Gaffer Pearce Mr. H. R. Hignett 

Tommy Arker Mr. Allan Wade 

Ellen Miss Marion Nugent 

Susan Miss Bokenham 

The Rev. Mr. Drew . . Mr. Edmund Gurney 
Captain Dixon .... Mr. H. Athol Forde 
The Constable .... Mr. Christmas Grose 

This play was produced by the Pioneers at the 
New Royalty Theatre, on 2Uh May, 1908, under 
the direction of Mr. H. Granville Barker. At its 
revival as a matinee at the Haymarket Theatre, in 
June, 1908, the part of the Rev. Mr. Drew was 
played by Mr. Cecil Brooking. 



THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 

ACT I 

Scene: — A kitchen in the house of a small 
tenant farmer at Broad Oak, on Severn, 1810. 

[Mrs. Pargetter and Jenny rolling dough 
and cutting apples.] 

[Jenny takes flour from cupboard.] 

Jenny. It do seem quiet 'ere, Mother, after 
service. 

Mrs. p. P'raps now I'll 'ave some quiet. 

Jenny. Only think, Mother, the ladies 'ad 
cups of tea in bed of a morning. 

Mrs. p. P'raps now you're come 'ome, I'll 
'ave my cup of tea, it's time I'd a little some- 
thing after all I gone through. 



2 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act t 

Jenny. Why, Mother? 

Mrs. p. What with that girl— Mooning 
round with 'er great eyes. 

Jenny. Do 'ee mean Cousin Nan, Mother? 

Mrs. p. Mind your work. I wish them 
groceries'd come. 

Jenny. Us'U 'ardly 'ave the things ready, 
Mother. Company be coming at dark. 

Mrs. p. Things'!! 'ave to be ready. 'Old 
your tongue. 

Jenny. 'Oo be coming, Mother, besides Dick 
Gurvil? 

Mrs. p. Young Artie Pearce, wold Gaffer 
Pearce, them girls o' Robertses, and Tommy 
Arker. 

Jenny. Us shall be quite a pearty, shan't 
us? 

Mrs. p. It won't be much of a pearty to me, 
with that Nan in the room. She tokens 'er dad 
too much. 



Act n THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 3 

Jenny. Why, Mother? 

Mrs. p. Always so prim and well be'aved, 
thinking 'erself so much better than anyone. 

Jenny. Ah ! 

Mrs. p. Always 'elping 'er friends as she 
calls them. 

Jenny. 'Elpin' them, Mother? 

Mrs. p. Barthin' their brats for 'em. 'Oo 
knows what dirt they've been playing in? Or 
mending their linen. Flying in the face of Prov- 
idence. She might bring us all the fever. [Going 
over to get a chair.] 'Ow many more times am I 
to tell yer I won't 'ave your things left about? 
Look 'ere at this chair. 

Jenny. What be it, Mother? 

Mrs. p. Look 'ere at your coat. 'Go's to 
get you a new coat when this is wore out? I 
will 'ave you careful. Every day of my life I'm 
putting your clothes away. Idle lawkamercy 
girl— 



4 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act T 

Jenny. That ben't mine, Mother. That be 
Cousm Nan's. 

Mrs. p. It's a wonder you couldn't say so 
at once. Oh ! so it's 'ers, is it? Wot's she got in 
'er pockets, I wonder. [Looks in pockets.] 
Wot's 'ere? Oh! ribbons for our white neck, in- 
deed. Wot's 'ere? Ho, indeed. [Taking paper.] 

Jenny. Wot's that, Mother, a letter? 

Mrs. p. So this is wot's up, is it? [She 
glances at paper.] 

Jenny. [Peeping.] It looks like Dick Gur- 
vil's 'and. Mother — 

Mrs. p. You 'eed your duty. [Puts paper 
in her own pocket.] I'll give it 'er. 'Ere, out 
of my way. None of your rags in my way. 
[Flinging coat into a corner.] 

Jenny. Oh, Mother, it's gone into the pig- 
wash. 

Mrs. p. Wot if it 'as? 



Act 7] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 5 

Jenny. She won't be able to wear it again, 

Mother. Never. 

Mrs. p. Let 'er go cold. Learn 'er not to 

leave 'er thmgs about. Where are you going 

now? 

Jenny. I was just going to hang it out, 

Mother. 

Mrs. p. Don't you dare to touch it. Stand 
'ere and do your work. Let that dirty gallus- 
bird do 'er own chores. 

Jenny. Whatever do 'ee mean, Mother? 

Mrs. p. a gallus-bird; that's all she is. 

Jenny. Cousin Nan, Mother. Why do 'ee 
call 'er that? 

Mrs. p. Oh, p'raps your father 'aven't 

a-told you. 

Jenny. No, Mother. 

Mrs. p. Run and see if that be Dick with 
the groceries. 



6 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN Uct I 

Jenny. [Goes to window.] No, Mother. 

Mrs. p. Drat 'im. Well, this mustn't go be- 
yond yer — it ain't to be known about. 'Er 
father — your Cousin Nan's father — wot married 
your father's sister — 

Jenny. Yes, Mother. 

Mrs. p. Don't interrup' when your moth- 
er's talking to yer. 'Er father, as she's so stuck 
on — 'E was 'ung. 

Jenny. 'Ung, Mother? 

Mrs. p. At Glorster ja-il. 

Jenny. Whatever 'ad 'e gone for to do? 

Mrs. p. 'E stole a sheep. That's wot 'e did. 

Jenny. And so 'e were 'ung. 

Mrs. p. There's a thing to 'appen in a 
family. 

Jenny. Sc) be that why Nan come 'ere? 

Mrs. p. Thanks to your father. 

Jenny. I didn't think, when I left service, 
I should 'sociate with no gallus-birds. 



Act n THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 7 

Mrs. p. Nor you wouldn't if your father 
was in 'is right mind. The Lord 'ath laid a 
'eavy judgmink on your father. Wot 'e wants 
with 'er I can't think. 

Jenny. Her may remind he of Auntie. 

Mrs. p. 'E's no call to be reminded of any 
woman, 'cept 'er the Lord 'ath bound to 'im. 
Wot I gorn through with that Nan in the 
'ouse'd a kill a Zebedee. They do say they be 
'ard to kill. 

Jenny. 'Ere be father coming. 

Mrs. p. 'E 'as 'is lunch of a mornin' now. 
Take 'is cider off the 'ob. 

Jenny. Where's 'is bread and cheese? [She 
takes mug off hob, looks about carelessly, and 
drops and smashes mug on hearth.] 

Mrs. p. There now. 

Jenny. Oh, Mother, I've broke it. 

Mrs. p. What a clumsy 'and you 'ave. 



8 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Jenny. It's father's fav'rit mug. Mother, 
whatever will 'e say? 

Mrs. p. 'Ere. Get upstairs. Get into the 
next room. 

Jenny. Whatever will 'e say! 'E will be 
mad. [Cries.] 

Mrs. p. I'll talk 'im round. There! It's 
all a accident. Quick ! before 'e comes now. 

Jenny. 'E will be that mad! A dear, a 
dear! [Goes out.] 

Mrs. p. [Taking out letter.] So this is wot 
it's come to: [Declaiming.] Dick Gurvil to 
'is fond beloved : 

"As I was a-walking a lady I did meet 

I knew it for my true love by the roses on 'er 

cheek 
The roses on 'er cheek so sweetly did grow 
My 'eart out of my bosom, like a engine did go." 

I'll watch yer, Master Dick. 



Act /] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 9 

[Enter Mr. Pargetter, walking with a 
stick. He is an old, shortish thick-set man, still 
hale.] 

Mr. p. [Advancing towards Mrs. P. and 
gravely saluting.] Well, Mother. 

Mrs. p. Did you see the fiddler? 

Mr. p. I saw the fiddler. 

Mrs. p. Is 'e coming to-night? 

Mr. p. 'E is coming. Us be going to 'ave 
great wonders to-night. 'Ot mutton parsty 
pies. 

Mrs. p. You won't eat of no 'ot mutton 
parsty pies. You know 'ow that sheep died as 
well as I do. 'E was oovy. [Pause.] A apple 
parsty's no great wonders. 

Mr. p. a fiddler and a apple parsty's 
wonders. 

Mrs. p. It'll fare to be a girt wonder if th' 
apple parsty be set. The amount of 'elp I get 
in the 'ouse-work — 



10 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Mr. p. At it again. 

Mrs. p. Yes, I am at it again, as you call it. 

Mr. p. What is it, now? 

Mrs. p. 'Ow much longer 'ave I got to put 
up with that Nan in the 'ouse? 

Mr. p. My niece Nan '11 stay in this 'ouse 
till — till I go to churchyard. Or — till she mar- 
ries. [A pause.] Now you know my mind. 
The girl's a good girl, if you'd let up in your 
naggin' 'er 'ed off. 

Mrs. p. Naggin', Will? 

Mr. p. 'Ow's any girl to be good with you 
naggin' 'er 'ed off all day long? 

Mrs. p. When did I ever nag, as you call it? 

Mr. p. When? 'Ave you ever give 'er a 
kind word since she come 'ere? 

Mrs. p. I 'ave my 'eavenly warrant for all 
I done. Will. Them as the Lord afflicts we 
must come out from and be ye separate. 



Act n THE TRAGEDY OF NAN U 

Mr. p. I wonder the Lord can let you pros- 
per, talking like that. 

Mrs. p. 'E knows 'is own, Will. You mark 
my words. 

Mr. p. I will mark 'em. And you mark 
mine. You'll treat my niece Nan as you'd treat 
your daughter Jenny. 

Mrs. p. Our daughter Jenny is the child of 
respectable parents. That — that charity girl 
is the daughter of — 

Mr. p. My sister. That's 'oo she's the 
daughter of. 

Mrs. p. And a thief 'oo was 'ung. I've al- 
ways been respectable; and I've always kep' my 
girl respectable. I will not 'ave to do with the 
common and the unclean. 

Mr. p. You'll 'ave Nan 'ere, and you'll stop 
your nagging, jealous tongue. 
Mrs. p. Jealous? 



12 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 1 

Mr. p. Yes, jealous. You make 'er life a 
burden acos she tokens my sister. You was 
sweet on 'er dad yourself. That's why you 
make 'er life a burden. 

Mrs. p. Ho, indeed! Ha, ha, ha! Wot 
notions. 

Mr. p. That's the truth though. I know 
yer. I seen somethink of yer in these twenty 
years. 

Mrs. p. 'Ark you to me. Will Pargetter. 
Could you look on and see your daughter 
wronged? 

Mr. p. What's that got to do with it? 

Mrs. p. I'll tell you. When first we 'ad 
that charity girl 'ere^ — 

Mr. p. You call 'er Nan. Wot are you 
wavin' that bit of paper at me for? 

Mrs. p. We 'ad 'opes as our Jenny'd marry 
Dick Gurvil soon as she come back from 
service. 



Act /] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 13 

Mr. p. That depended on Dick, not on 
Jenny. 

Mrs. p. Oh, but Dick was no difficulty. 
They kep' company before Jenny went to serv- 
ice. Dick was sweet on 'er all right. 

Mr. p. Dick was sweet on twenty girls. 

Mrs. p. No. Since that^that idle mooner 
come 'ere — Dick's been sweet on 'er. Look 'ere. 
Look at this. [Shews letter.] 

Mr. p. I don't want no letter. Put it where 
yer got it. That's the best thing I ever 'eard 
of Dick. Dick wants a wife with sense. 

Mrs. p. You'll let 'er marry 'im, after 'is 
carrying on along o' Jenny. And break your 
own daughter's 'art. 

Mr. p. Jenny's got no 'art. 

Mrs. p. Jenny'd resolve 'er 'eavenly crown 
for Dick Gurvil. 'Ow dare you blacken your 
own child? 

Mr. p. Blacken 'er. She 's a cold 'eartless 



14 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 1 

little baggage, Jenny is. Our Nan's worth a 
'undred of 'er. 

Mrs. p. And you expect me to see that 
great-eyed, ugly scrawf marrying my daugh- 
ter's man. 

Mr. p. He's not your daughter's man. 
Dick's everybody's daughter's man. If 'e steps 
up and marries our Nan — it'll be the making of 
'im. Give me my lunch. 

Mrs. p. Ah ! I was forgetting. You put me 
out of patience. I'm afraid I spoke 'asty, Will. 
I've a 'asty tongue. [With suavity.] 

Mr. p. There, there! Where's my vittles? 

[She puts down bread and cheese.] 

[Pargetter gets up to fetch mug from the 
hob.] 

Mr. p. Thank ye. Mother. [He sees the 
mug broken.] Law, Mother. You 'aven't a 
broke my Toby. 



Act I] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 15 

Mrs. p. There, there now, Will, it was a 
accidenk. 

Mr. p. Not my Toby, broken? 

Mrs. p. It was a accidenk. [She picks up 
the pieces.] 

Mr. p. 'Ooever 'ave a broke my Toby. Why 
weren't I told to onst? 

Mrs. p. She were goin' to tell yer, she said. 

Mr. p. Not— not Nan? It wasn't Nan 
broke it? 

Mrs. p. 'Er said 'er'd tell you to onst. It 
was a accidenk. 

Mr. p. But no accidenk could a broke my 
Toby. 

Mrs. p. There, there. Us'U buy another's 
good as 'er. 

Mr. p. But I've a 'ad my zider outen ov 'er 
this fifty year, like my granfer 'ave a-done. I'd 
a value for that Toby. 



16 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN {Act I 

Mrs. p. 'Er'U tell 'ee 'ow it was. It was a 
accidenk. She was in a 'urry, you see. Getting 
things ready for the pearty. It was quite a 
accidenk. 

Mr. p. 'Ow could it be quite a accidenk? 

Mrs. p. 'Er 'ands were wet, you see; she's 
particular about 'er 'ands — 

Mr. p. Clumsy 'anded — 

Mrs. p. They was all soapy from washing. 
It was quite a accidenk. 

Mr. p. And so she let it slip. 

Mrs. p. She didn't see where she was go- 
ing. The sun was in 'er eyes or somethink. 
She's goin' to tell yer 'ow it was. 

Mr. p. My wold Toby jug as Granfer 'ad. 
'Er could a broak my 'eart sooner. 'Er could. 
'Er could. [He pushes away his bread and 
cheese.] I can't eat my vittles after that. That 
I can't. Careless girt gowk ! 



Act n THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 17 

[Enter Nan — Old Pargetter stares at her 
hard all through this scene.] 

Nan. You be back early, Uncle. 

Mrs. P. WeU? 

Nan. Yes, Aunt. 

Mrs. p. 'Tes, Aunt." 'Ave you looked at 
yourself long enough in the glass? 

Nan. What glass? 

Mrs. p. The glass upstairs. 

Nan. The beds are made. I suppose that's 
what you mean. 

Mrs. p. That's not the way to talk before 
your uncle. 

Nan. May I help you cut them apples, 
Aunt? 

Mrs. p. No, you mayn't 'elp me cut these 
apples. You get your own work. 

Nan. I've done all my work. Aunt. 

Mrs. p. None of your impudence. [Very 
sharply.] 



18 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN {Act I 

Nan. I have. 

Mrs. p. If you 'ave, it^s not done properly I 
know. I've a good mind to make you do it over. 
A very good mind. 

Nan. Is that the dough for the pasty? 

Mrs. p. None o' yer business. 

[Nan picks up a rolling pin.] 

Put down that pin when youVe told. 

Nan. I wish you'd let me 'elp, Aunt? Com- 
pany be coming at dark. 

Mrs. p. What's it to do with you? I know 
w'en comp'ny's coming without your dinnin' it 
into me. 

[Nan goes softly to the dresser.] 

Wot are you creep in' about on tiptoe for? 
One'd think you were a thief, like your father. 

Nan. [Meekly.] I didn't want to disturve 
you, Aunt. 

Mrs. p. Disturve me! You couldn't dis- 
turve me more if you tried. 



Act /] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 19 

Nan. I'm sorry, Aunt. 

Mrs. p. You know that perfectly well. 

Nan. I'm sorry, Aunt. 

Mrs. p. 'Ere, you give me the fidgets. 

Nan. 'Ave you one of your sick headaches, 
Aunt? 

Mrs. p. You give me the sick 'edache. One 
would think you might 'ave 'ad a little grati- 
tood. 

Nan. When I was grateful you called me a 
'ipocrit. 

Mrs. p. Oh! When was you grateful, as 
you call it? 

Nan. When I first come 'ere. I did my 
best, I did. I thought you'd like me if I work' 
'ard, and 'elped you. 

Mrs. p. Did yer think! 

Nan. I used to make you tea afore you got 
up of a morning: I wash up the dinner things, 
so as you could 'ave your nap of a afternoon. 



20 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN lAct J 

I never let you do the week^s washing, not once, 
since I come 'ere. 

Mrs. p. One ^ud expect a little something. 
After all that's been done for you. 

Nan. Done for me! What have you ever 
done for me? 

Mrs. p. Given you a 'ome. 

Nan. a home? 

Mrs. p. There's not many would 'ave took 
in a girl 'er dad being 'ung. But I says to your 
uncle — 

Nan. I know what you said to Uncle. That 
the Rector 'ad asked you to take me in. That's 
what you said to Uncle. You was afeared the 
Rector'd let it be known if you refused. You 
was afeared folk'd get to know you for what you 
are. That's why you took me in. [More 
softly,] D'ye think I don't know, Aunt? I feel 
I do. [Pause.] And down in the shop they tell 
me what a friend you've been to me. "Mrs. 



Act 7] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 21 

Pargetter *ave been kind tiv ee," they say. 
And Mrs. Drew at the Rectory. She's another. 
" 'Ow grateful you must feel towards your 
aunt." That's what she says. And you smile. 
You take it all in smiling. You lick your lips 
over all their praise. Or you play the martyr. 
You play the martyr. D'ye think I haven't 
heard you? ''A lot of return I get," that's what 
you say. They praise you for being good to me. 
Good! You! And you make my life here a 
hell. You lick your lips to make life hell to me. 
And you tell lies about me. You mean woman. 
You so holy, you tell lies. 

Mr. p. [Angrily.] Now none of that now. 
That's enough. You leave the room. 

Mrs. p. No, she'll not leave the room. I'll 
learn 'er to be'ave first. [To Nan.] I'd have 
you remember as your daily bread as you're so 
fond of is give you by me and your uncle. 

Nan. Given me? 



22 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Mrs. p. Per'aps you'll deny as you 'ave 
your food — God knows you eat enough. 

Nan. And every morsel bitter. Bitter. You 
make it burn in my throat. 

Mrs. p. And a roof over your 'ed, which is 
more than your merits. . 

Nan. So 'as a man in a prison a roof. 

Mrs. p. Yes. You're right. 'E 'as till 'e's 
'ung. And you 'ave your clothes. The very 
clothes on your back. Talking of clothes, that 
reminds me. Take that dirty coat of yours out 
of the pigwash where you put it. I suppose 
you want to poison the pigs next. 

Nan. [Turning to pigwash trow.] Oh! 
'Oo've bin and done that? [At the point of 
tears.] I suppose you think it funny to spoil a 
poor girl's clothes. And now it's spoiled. [She 
takes ribbon from pocket.] And this is spoiled. 
What I'd saved up for. Now I shan't have any. 
You put that in the trow. You know you did. 



Act /] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 23 

Mrs. p. You say I put your dirty things in 
the trow and I'll put you in. Talk like that to 
me, will yer? One of these days I'll give you 
the cart whip, like what you deserve. 

Nan. [Turning to hide tears.] You read 
your Bible, and you go to church, and you do a 
thing like that. You put a poor girl's coat in 
the trow and as good as deny it afterwards. 

Mr. p. Now come, come, come. 'Ow d'yer 
expect to be ready for to-night? Let's 'ave no 
more catanddoggin' here. 

Mrs. p. I'm not talking to you. 'Old yer 
peace. [Furiously at interruption.] I'm talk- 
ing to you. [To Nan.] You're a black, proud, 
ungrateful cat. Wot your 'eart'U look like on 
the Day of Judgemink beats me. 

Nan. Oh! [Contemptuously — she opens out 
the sopping coat.] 

Mrs. p. I'll give yer "oh." 'Ere. Don't go 
dripping the pigwash all about the place. You 



24 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN lAct 1 

drop it. Give it to me 'ere — 'ere. [She snatches 
at the coat and tries to wrench it from Nan's 
hands.] 

Nan. Don't you dare to touch it. Let go 
of it. 

Mrs. p. Will yer. Leggo now. 

Nan. I won't. No you don't. You'll tear it 
in another minute. I'll kill you if you tear it. 

Mrs. p. Wot'U you? 

Nan. I'll kill you. I'U kill you. 

Mrs. p. [Putting both hands to the coat 
and wrenching it free; then slashing it into 
Nan's face.] I'll show you 'oo's mistress 'ere, 
my lady. Now — see. [She tears the collar off 
and stamps on it.] There. You'll do what 
you're told 'ere, my lady. 

[Nan holds table and glares at her aunt, then 
picks up the cutting knife.] 

Nan. [Slowly.] My dad gave me that coat. 
[A pause.] My dad. 



Act I] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 25 

Mrs. p. Mind, Will, she's got the knife m 
'er 'and. 

Par. [Going to her.] Give me thicky 
knife. [He takes it from her.} No temper 'ere. 
I've got one score against you already. Wot's 
come to you to-day? 

Mrs. p. The devil's come to 'er. She's 
pretty near tore my arm off. 

Nan. [Slowly.] You be careful. 

Mrs. p. But I'll teach yer. 

Nan. You be careful. 

Par. Nan, you go to your room. 

[Nan sullenly picks up the torn coat and then 
bursts into tears.] 

Nan. My dad give me this coat. It's a dear 
coat. [She smooths out the torn and crumpled 
stuff,] And now it's all torn. [The Parget- 
TERS watch her with a sort of hard scorn.] I'll 
never be able to wear en again. Oh, my dad, I 
wish I was dead. I wish I was dead. 



26 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Par. No sinful talk like that, now. I won't 
'ave it. 

Nan. Uncle! I 'ave tried, I 'ave, Uncle. 

Par. Don't turn to me, girl. You'd ought 
to turn to God — giving way to the devil— No 
— and you've not been straight. If you'd told 
me at once I'd 'ave let it pass. Though I felt 
it. [A pause, then testily.] Come now, be 
straight. That's above all things. [A pause, 
Nan sobs.] Eh? [Nan sohs.] 

Mr. p. [Rising.] 'Aven't you something 
to tell me? 

Nan. No! No! 

Par. [Grimly.] I thought you 'ad. [Turn- 
ing.] 

Nan. Oh, Uncle! Do 'ee. 

Mr. p. [Going.] I didn't think it of you. 

Nan. Uncle. 

Mr. p. I didn't think it. 
[Exit] 



Act 7] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 27 

Mrs. p. [Going up to her.] I'll make your 
belly bitter, like in the Bible. 

Nan. You! Oh! [Turns from her.] Oh, 
Dad, I wish I were with 'ee, I do. 

Mrs. p. [Bitterly.] You'll spoil yer looks 
for to-night, I shouldn't wonder. You won't 
'ave yer young men neighing after yer. Dirty 
'ogs. 

[Nan picks up apples and begins to cut 
them, still crying.] 

Mrs. p. I'll watch you with your young 
men! I'm not going to ^ave no mothers com- 
ing round complaining. 

Nan. [Slowly.] I 'ope you may never feel 
wot I feel. 

[Enter Jenny.] 

Jenny. Mawther! 

Mrs. P. 'Ush! 

Jenny. There be Dick's trap with the 
groceries. 



28 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Mrs. p. Time too. 'Ere [to Nan] go and 
get them! 

Nan. Me? 

Mrs. p. Yes, you. 'Oo else. Do something 
for your living for once in a way. 

[Exit Nan.] 

Jenny. Mother, wot 'ave Dad say? 

Mrs. p. 'Ush yer tongue. I've made that 
right. 

Jenny. O Mother. I thort 'e'd 'ave my 'ed 
off for it. 

Mrs. p. Never you 'eed of that. I've some- 
think else to say to you. That girl. Nan — 

Jenny. Wot, Mother? 

Mrs. p. [Speaking very rapidly.] You bet- 
ter watch out she don't tread a thy corns, as 
well as thy mother's she've a done. 

Jenny. Wot do 'ee mean, Mother? 

Mrs. p. Dick Gurvil's 'oo I mean. 

Jenny. Oh ! 



Act I] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 29 

Mrs. p. Yes, Dick Gurvil! SheVe set 'er 
cap at Dick. 

Jenny. Oh ! 

Mrs. p. [Mimicking.] Oh! Oh! Yes, 
and Dick be sweet on 'er. 

Jenny. I don't care, Mother. 

Mrs. t. Yes, you do care. 'Ave done o* 
your folly, 

Jenny. Dick can please 'isself so far as I'm 
concerned, I'm sure. 

Mrs. p. No 'e can't please 'isself, as you 
call it. 'Oo else'd yer get if you lose 'im? You 
take a man when you can get 'im. There ain't 
too many, let me tell yer. 

Jenny. I do-an't care, I'm sure. I don't 
want no men. 

Mrs. p. Don't you want. You listen to me. 
You got ter want. Whether you like or not. I 
ain't goin' to 'ave you the talk of the town. 



30 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN {Act I 

Jenny. Lor, Mother! I didn't think of 
that. 

Mrs. p. No, I know you didn't think. 

Jenny. Lor, Mother. 

Mrs. p. 'Oo 'ad 'er man took by a gallus- 
bird. 

Jenny. Would they say that, Mother? 

Mrs. p. 'Go's she to take Dick Gurvil? If 
you'd any pride — 

Jenny. Be you sure she be a-trying for 
Dick? 

Mrs. p. Well, you best find out. 

Jenny. I'll watch it, I will. 

Mrs. p. [As Nan enters,] Ah! you'd a 
better! Now I got to see to the 'ouse-work. 
I'll expect you to 'ave everythink ready against 
I come back. [To Nan.] You may think as 
you're someone. I'll learn you different. None 
o' your tricks, 'ere. No! Nor none of your 



Act n THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 31 

mother's carryings on. [A pause.] With men. 
That's wot I mean . . . Gallus-bird. 

[She goes out, Nan draws a chair to the table 
— Jenny is already seated — and begins to cut 
apples. She is crying. She gathers the torn 
coat together tenderly.] 

Jenny. Never mind mother, Nan. She 
don't mean nothin' ! 
Nan. I don't — 

Jenny. She be only put out by 'avin' com- 
p'ny to-night. 

Nan. It's not! It's not! Oh, she'd ought 
to leave my father. 

Jenny. There, there now — let I get 'ee 
some warm warter off the 'ob. Your eyes'll be 
as red as red. 
Nan. I don't care, I don't care. 
Jenny. Why, come now. Us be going to 
be girt friends, us be, ben't us? Mother be a 
'ard woman to please. But 'er don't mean it. 



32 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Nan. Her do speak so bitter. They be all 
against me! The 'ole world be against me. 

Jenny. [With bowl of water and a hand- 
kerchief.] Do 'ee jest mop thy eyes. Or let I. 

Nan. It be kind of you to trouble. What 
a girt silly I be to cry so ! 

Jenny. Your eyes'U be as red. Come, 
come! There be 'andsome young men a- 
comin'. I wouldn't wonder as they be all sweet 
on you! I wouldn't wonder as you'd 'ave a 
sweet'eart some Easter. 

Nan. a sweet'eart! A charity girl! 

Jenny. Don't take it to 'eart. Us be goin* 
to be friends, ben't us, dear? 

Nan. It be kind of you to speak kind. 

Jenny. And us'U go out of a Sunday. Why, 
us'U be girt friends. It go to my 'eart to think 
of thy trouble. 

Nan. Will 'ee be a friend, Cousin Jenny? 



Act /] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 33 

Jenny. There, there. Wot pretty eyes you 
'ave. Your 'air's thicker than mine. 'Ow you 
do a set it off. Us'll 'ave no secrets, will us? 

Nan. 'Ee will be my friend, won't 'ee, 
Jenny? Do-an't 'ee be agen me — I couldn't 
bear it if you turned against me. I've some- 
times been near killing myself since I came 
here. Your mother's been that bitter to me. 

Jenny. Don't 'ee say such things. 

Nan. Jenny, I'll tell 'ee why I didn't kill 
myself. 

Jenny. Lord, Nan, doa-n't 'ee. 

Nan. I want 'ee to bear with me, Jenny. 
I'll tell 'ee why I didn't kill myself. I thought 
. . . there , . . it's only nonsense. Did you 
ever think about men, Jenny? About loving a 
man? About marriage? 

Jenny. I've 'oped to 'ave a 'ome of my 
own. And not to be a burden 'ere and that. 



34 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

Nan. Ah! But about 'elping a man? 

Jenny. A man 'as strength. 'E ought to 
'elp a woman. 

Nan. I could 'elp a man, Jenny. 

Jenny. Wot ideyers you do 'ave! 

Nan. When a girl's 'eart is breaking, Jenny, 
she 'as ideyers. 

Jenny. Ah ! 

Nan. Jenny! 

Jenny. Yes, Nan? 

Nan. I've never talked to a woman like this 
afore. I felt I'd die if I couldn't talk to some- 
one. 

Jenny. I know, exackly! 

Nan. When I see you so kind, and you so 
pretty, Jenny, I felt I must speak. 

Jenny. Do you think me pretty. Nan? 

Nan. Yes, Jenny. 

Jenny. In service they thought me pretty. 
All but cook. 



Act 7] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 35 

Nan. You are pretty, Jenny. 

Jenny. Cook was a unpleasant old thing. 
She did 'er 'air in papers. No ladies do their 
'air in papers! Ow! she was 'orrid of a morn- 
ing. 0! the waste I see go on in that 'ouse. 
They 'ad pastry every day. And the ladies had 
milk and biscuits at eleven of a morning. 

Nan. You must tell me all your secrets, 
Jenny. 

Jenny. That I will. And will 'ee tell I all 
yourn? 

Nan. If you like, Jenny. 

Jenny. And will 'ee tell I when you 'ave a 
sweet'eart? 

Nan. Ah! A sweet'eart. You must tell me 
about yours, Jenny. 

Jenny. Ah ! I ain't got one yet. 

Nan. 'Aven't you, Jenny? 

Jenny. Noa. Not one special like. 



36 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 1 

Nan. You'll 'ave one soon, Jenny. 
Jenny, I hope you'll be very 'appy. 

Jenny. Love be queer, ben't it? The 
things it makes people do. Could 'ee fancy a 
man. Nan? 

Nan. Perhaps. 

Jenny. Ugly girt scrawfs, I think they be. 

Nan. Not all of them. 

Jenny. Perhaps you 'ave a fancy. Nan? 
'Ave you, dear? 'Ave you? 'Oo be it. Nan? 
Tell me, dearie. I wouldn't tell a single soul. 
Tell me. Nan. You said as you'd 'ave no se- 
crets from me. 

Nan. Ah ! 

Jenny. Is it anyone I know? 

[Nan goes to her and puts an arm round her 
and kisses her.] 

Nan. Yes, dear. 

Jenny. Be it Artie Pearce? 

Nan. No, Jenny. 



Act I] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 37 

Jenny. 'Oo be it. It be a shame not to tell 
me! 

Nan. Jenny dear? 

Jenny. Yes, Nan. Tell me now. Whisper. 

Nan. It be Dick Gurvil, Jenny. 

Jenny. Dick Gurvil? 

Nan. I love him. I love him. 

Jenny. Do you love him very much? 

Nan. It feel like my 'eart was in flower, 
Jenny. 

Jenny. Ah! It must. [A pause.] I 'ope 
you'll be very 'appy. You and Mr. Gurvil. 

Nan. God bless you, Jenny. 

Jenny. What eyes you have got. Cousin 
Nan. To think of you fancying Dick! It be 
nice to 'ave you for a friend. Cousin Nan. 

Nan. Kiss me, dear. You've never kissed 
me. 

Jenny. There! Go and bathe thy eyes, 
Nan. They'll be red if 'ee don't. 'Ee mustn't 



38 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act I 

'ave them red for Dick to-night. Bathe 'em 
in cold. 

Nan. I could cry, I could. [She goes slowly 
out.] 

Jenny. [At the other door.] Mother. [A 
pause.] [Softly.] Mother. 

Mrs. p. [Off.] Yes! 

Jenny. Come 'ere a moment. 

Mrs. p. [Wiping her hands.] What d'yer 
want now? 

Jenny. About Nan. 

Mrs. p. Wot? Wot about 'er? 

Jenny. [Giggling.] She be soft on Dick, 
Mother. HerVe a-told me. 

Mrs. P. Ho! 

Jenny. [Giggling.] Us'll 'ave to watch it, 
Mother. 

Mrs. p. I'll watch it. 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

Scene: — The kitchen, "Nan tidying up. She 
places tray, glasses and bottle in inner room. 

Nan. [Sings.] . . . 

Blow, blow, thou winds of winter blow, 
And cover me with sparklen snow. 
And tear the branches from the tree, 
And strew the dead leaves over me. 
Dick. [Coming in.] Miss Nan. 
Nan. Why, Mr. Gurvil! What a start you 
give me. You be early. 
, Dick. Ah? When'U the others be 'ere? 
Nan. Not yet. It's not half past yet. 
Dick. When'll the others — Mrs. Pargetter 
— be down? 

Nan. They won't be down this ten minutes. 
They be dressing. 



40 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 11 

Dick. And 'aven't the fiddler come? 

Nan. No. 

Dick. Per'aps I'd a better go out again. 

Nan. No. Come in and sit down, Mr. Dick. 
They'll be 'ere direckly. I'll be done. Tell me 
the news in the great world. What be 
'appening? 

Dick. They do say there be a criminal a- 
broak loose. Out of Glorster jail. 

Nan. Indeed ! 

Dick. And come 'idin' 'ere somewhere, they 
think. 

Nan. What makes them think that? 

Dick. I dunno. But there be a Bow Street 
runner. And there be a gentleman come. 
They were askin' where Parson live. They 
must be 'avin' a hue and cry. Hope they'll 
catch 'im and 'ang 'im. I'd like to sick the 
dogs at 'em. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 41 

Nan. They be 'uman beings, like us be, Mr. 
Dick. 

Dick. [Undoing his neck-cloth.] No, they 
ben't like us. That be where you women go 
wrong. Along of your 'earts, that is. I'd like 
to see all criminals 'anged. Then us honest 
ones might fare to prosper. [He takes off neck- 
cloth.] 

Nan. What'U you take, Mr. Dick, after 
your w^alk? 

Dick. What be going? 

Nan. 'Ave some zider and a cake. They be 
in the next room, ready. 

Dick. If it ben't troubling you, I ull. 

[Nan fetches mug and plate.] 

Dick. [Taking a cake.] I'd ought to be 
a-waiting on you, not you a-waiting on me. 
Only I 'aven't any angel-cakes 'ere. None but 
angel-cakes 'd be fit eating for you, Miss Nan. 



42 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Nan. Oh, now, I wonder how many girls 
youVe made that speech to. 

Dick. None, I never. 

Nan. Well, I hope you like your cake? 

Dick. It be beautiful. A spice-cake, when 
it be split and buttered, and just set to the fire, 
so as the butter runs. I don't mean to toast it; 
but just set to the fire, and then just a sprinkle 
of sugar to give it a taste. No so as to make 
it sweet, you know. It go down like roses. Like 
kissing a zweet'eart at 'arvest time. When the 
girt moon be zhining. 

Nan. If they be all that to you, Mr. Dick, 
you must 'ave another. Try and think the 
clock be the moon a-zhining. 

[She gets more cakes.] 

Dick. It be lovely 'aving cakes and you 
bringing them to me. [Bites.] But there ben't 
no sugar, not on this one. Miss Nan, will 'ee 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 43 

jest put thy pretty 'and on this cake, and then 
it'll be sugared lovely. 

Nan. I'm not going to do anything so silly. 
'Ere. Take this one. This one be sugared. 

Dick. [Eating.] It 'ud be just 'eaven if 
you'd 'ave 'alf of it. So's I might feel — some- 
'ow — as — 

Nan. No. I won't 'ave any. 'Ave another 
drop of zider. 

Dick. [Tasting.] Your zider be too peert, 
Miss Nan. I like zider to be peert, like I likes 
my black puddens done, up to a point. But 
zider's peert's this — I tell you what it want. 
It want to 'ave a apple roast therein, and a sod 
toast therein, and then it want to 'ave a nutmeg 
grated ever so light, not rough, yer know. And 
then it be made mellow, like, like tart of a 
Sunday. 

Nan. Why, Mr. Dick, you'd ought to have 
been a cook, I think. 



44 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Dick. My father say to me— ''Mind thy in- 
nards/' he say. I 'ad to do for my father, arter 
mother died. Very pertiklar about his innards 
dad were. I learned about innards from 'im. 

Nan. It be wonderful to 'ave a father to do 
for. To think as he knowed 'ee when you were 
a little un. To think as perhaps 'e give up lots 
o' things, so's you might fare to be great in the 
world. 

Dick. My dad never give up. 'E said 'e 
try it once, just to try like. It never 'd 'ave suit 
my dad. 

Nan. It be always 'ard for a man to give 
up, even for a child, they say. But a woman 
'as to give up. You don't know. You never 
think per'aps what a woman gives up. She 
gives up 'er beauty and 'er peace. She gives 
up 'er share of joy in the world. All to bear a 
little one ; as per'aps'll not give 'er bread when 
'er be wold. 



Act m THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 45 

Dick. I wonder women ever want to 'ave 
children. They be so beautiful avore they 'ave 
children. They 'ave their red cheeks, so soft. 
And sweet lips so red's red. And their eyes 
bright, like stars a-zhining. And oh, such white 
soft 'ands. Touch one of 'em, and you 'ave 
like shoots all down. Beau-ti-vul. Love-lee. 

Nan. It be a proud thing to 'ave a beauty 
to raise love in a man. 

Dick. And after. I seen the same girls, 
with their 'ands all rough of washing-day, and 
their fingers all scarred of stitching. And their 
cheeks all flaggin', and sunk. And dull as 
toads' bellies, the colour of 'em. And their eyes 
be 'eavy, like a foundered wold ewe's when 'er 
time be on 'er. And lips all bit. And there 
they do go with the backache on 'em. Pitiful, 
I call it. Draggin' their wold raggy skirts. And 
the baby crying. And little Dick with 'is nose 
all bloody, fallen in the grate. And little Sairey 



46 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

fell in the yard, and ^ad ^er 'air mucked. Ah! 
Ugh! It go to my 'eart. 

Nan. Ah, but that ben't the all of love, Mr. 
Dick. It be 'ard to see beauty gone, and joy 
gone, and a light 'eart broke. But it be won- 
derful for to 'ave little ones. To 'ave brought 
life into the world. To 'ave 'ad them little live 
things knocking on your 'eart, all them months. 
And then to feed them. 'Elpless like that. 

Dick. They be pretty, little ones be, when 
they be kept clean and that. I likes 'earing 
them sing 'imns. I likes watching the little 
boys zwimming in the river. They be so white 
and swift, washing themselves. And the 
splashin' do shine zo. Diamonds. 'Oo be com- 
ing 'ere to-night — 'sides us? 

Nan. Old Gaffer Pearce be a-comin' to 
fiddle. 

Dick. He'd ought to be in mad'ouse. Gaffer 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 47 

did. Dotty owd gape. He ben't wholly stal- 
wart in uns brains, folk do observe. But — 

Nan. He been a beautiful fiddler. 

Dick. He been a wonder, that old man *ave. 

Nan. 'E play wonderful still, when 'e gets 
thinking of old times, and of 'is girl as 'e calls 
'er. Why, sheVe been dead fifty years and 
more. 

Dick. She was beautiful. They call 'er the 
Star of the West. My dad 'ave tell of 'er. She 
'ad a face like cream. 

Nan. He made beautiful poems to 'er; and 
music, 'e did. I 'eard 'im sing 'is poems once. 
He was fiddlin' quiet-like, all the time 'e were 
a-singing; and the tears standing in 'is eyes. 
'E's never been quite right since the Lord 'ad 
mercy on 'er. 

Dick. 'Oo else's comin' 'sides Gaffer? 

Nan. Tommy and Artie. What a 'andsome 
boy Artie be grown. 



48 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act U 

Dick. Ah? I 'ear 'em say that. I couldn't 
ever see it. 

Nan. He be just like his mother. Black 
and comely. 

Dick. I likes a good black. I likes a good 
brown, a good bay brown. I likes a good black 
too. There be bright blacks and there be dull 
blacks. Now what be the black as I likes? 
Your 'air is jest the very colour. Beautiful I 
call it. 

Nan. [Getting up.] If you ben't going to 
'ave more zider I'll take your mug, Mr. Dick. 
Mr. Dick. 

Dick. Yes. 

Nan. We've 'ad a sheep die on us last week. 
Don't you 'ave none of our 'ot mutton pies 
to-night. 

Dick. Ah? I 'ope you'll give me twice of 
trotters, instead like, I can do with a trotter, I 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 49 

can. I s'pose us be going to 'ave great times 
'ere to-night, Miss Nan. 

Nan. Yes, indeed. Us'll dance the moon 
down to-night. 

Dick. I s'pose you be a girt lady to dance? 

Nan. I've not dance now, for more'n a year, 
Mr. Dick. 

Dick. I s'pose you 'ad dancings when you 
were to 'ome. 

' Nan. Us used to dance on our doorsteps at 
^ome. There was an old man used to fiddle to 
us. Every night there was a moon, we danced. 
The girls would dance in their pattens. They 
used to go clack, clack, their feet did. You'd 
a thought it was drums, Mr. Dick. 

Dick. I wish I'd bin there to ^ave dance 
with you. 

Nan. And then we used to sing "Joan to 
the Maypole" and ''Randal" and all the old 



50 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN • [Act II 

songs. And there'd be beetles a buzzin'. And 
sometimes one of the shepherds come with Is 
flute. It was nice at 'ome, then. 

Dick. What times us be 'avin* since you 
come 'ere. It be always sad to leave 'ome. But 
I s'pose you'll be going back afore long. Your 
dad and your mother'll be a-wanting you. 
Sure to be. 

Nan. They be dead, Mr. Dick. 

Dick. Now, be they indeed! Mrs. Parget- 
ter do talk's though you 'ad both your folk. 

Nan. Mrs. Pargetter! She has 'er reasons, 
Mr. Dick, for letting folk think that. 

Dick. What reasons can 'er 'ave for that, 
Miss Nan? 

Nan. Some day, per'aps I'll tell you 'er 
reasons. Now let I take your coat and that. 

[She takes coat, hat, etc., and puts them in 
inner room. Then re-enters.] 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 51 

Dick. 'Ow brave you be a-looking, Miss 
Nan. 

Nan. Soap and water tells, they do say. 

Dick. You be all roses, Miss Nan. And 
you be all lilies. 

Nan. Why, Mr. Dick! You be quite the 
courtier. 

Dick. Ah! [Producing a rose.] Miss 
Nan? 

Nan. Yes? 

Dick. I brought a rose — 

Nan. For Jenny, Mr. Dick? 

Dick. No, for 'ee. Will 'ee wear it, Miss 
Nan? 

Nan. Yes, if you'll give it to me. 

Dick. 'Ere it be. Will 'ee say thank you 
for it? 

Nan. Thank you, Mr. Dick. What a beau- 
tiful rose! 



52 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Dick. 'Er be a Campden Wonder. 'Er be 
red. Like love. Love be red. Like roses. 

Nan. Oh! 

Dick. I see that rose growing, Miss Nan 
— an' I — I thought 'er'd look beautiful if — if 
— if you were wearing of 'er, like. 

Nan. Well, I hope it does. 

Dick. You put 'er to the blush, Miss Nan 
— Miss Nan — 

Nan. Yes? 

Dick. Will you do I a favour? 

Nan. What is it? 

Dick. Will 'ee wear that rose in your hair? 

Nan. In my hair, Mr. Dick! Why? 

Dick. I 'ad a dream once of you with roses 
in your hair. 

Nan. [Putting rose in her hair.] In the 
old times women always put roses in their hair. 
When they danced, they wore roses in their 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 53 

hair. The rose-leaves fell all about 'en, my 
mother told me. 

Dick. It looks like it were growing out of 
your 'ed. 

Nan. I must light the lamp. 

Dick. No, don't 'ee. Don't 'ee. 

Nan. [Striking a match.] They must have 
looked beautiful, those women must, in the old 
time. There was songs made of them. Beauty 
be a girt gift, Mr. Dick. 

Dick. It be wonderful in a woman. 

Nan. It makes a woman like God, Mr. 
Dick. 

Dick. You be beautiful. Nan ; you be beau- 
tiful. 

Nan. Ah, Mr. Dick. 

Dick. You be beautiful. You be like a fairy. 
The rose. You be beautiful like in my dream. 

Nan. Ah! Let go my hands. Let go my 
hands. 



54 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN Uct II 

Dick. You be beautiful. Your eyes. And 
your face so pale. And your hair with the rose. 
Nan, you be lovely. You be lovely! 

Nan. O don't! Don't! 

Dick. My love, my beloved. 

Nan. Ah! 

Dick. I love you, O Nan, I love you. 

Nan. Let me go : let me go, please. 

Dick. Do 'ee care for me? Do 'ee love me, 
Nan? 

Nan. You don't know! You don't know! 
You don't know about me. 

Dick. I love you. 

Nan. Ah ! You mustn't. You mustn't love 
me. 

Dick. There be no high queen 'as a beauty 
like yours, Nan. 

Nan. 0! let me go. 

Dick. My love! My 'andsome! 

Nan. 0! Dick. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 55 

Dick. Nan, O Nan, do 'ee love me? 

Nan. Ah! 

Dick. Dear sweet. Will 'ee mary me? Do 
'ee love me? 

Nan. I love you, Dick. 

Dick. My love! My pretty! 

Nan. My dear love. 

Dick. My beautiful. I'll make a song for 
you, my beautiful. 

Nan. Your loving me, that's song enough. 

Dick. Nan, dear, let I take the pins out of 
your hair. Let me 'ave your 'air all loose. Your 
lovely hair. Nan, you be a beautiful woman. 

Nan. Ah, God ! I wish I were beautiful. 

Dick. Dear love, you be. 

Nan. More beautiful. Then I'd 'ave more 
to give you. 

Dick. Kiss me. Kiss me! 

Nan. There be my 'air, Dick. It ben't 
much, after all. 



56 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Dick. [Kissing the hair.] Oh, beautiful. 
Beau-ti-vul. My own Nan. 

Nan. I am yours, my beloved. 

Dick. When shall us be married? When 
shall us come together? 

Nan. Ah, my love ! Now is enough. Now 
is enough. 

Dick. When shall us marry? 

Nan. Kiss me. 

Dick. Shall it be Michaelmas? 

Nan. Kiss me. Kiss me. 

Dick. My winsome. My beauty. 

Nan. Now loose me, darling. [They 
break.] I have had my moment. I have been 
happy. 

Dick. Nan! Nan! 

Nan. I cannot marry you. Dick, 'ee 
must go away. Go away. [He goes toward 
her.] Don't 'ee. Us can never marry. You'd 
'ate me if you knew. I can't tell you. Not 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 57 

to-night, dear. They'll be coming down di- 
rectly. If I married you, Dick? Oh, I can't. 
I can't — if I married you — if we lived 'ere — I 
might bring shame upon you. They'd call 
names after me. They'd know. They'd know. 

Dick. My pretty! My Nan. Tell thy 
Dick. 

Nan. Ah, no, no. Don't touch me. You 
don't know yet. I'm — not a fit — I'm not a fit 
woman for you to marry, Dick. My father. 
My poor dad. [She breaks down.] Dick! 
O Dick ! You don't know what sorrows I gone 
through. I think my 'eart'U break. 

Dick. There, there, Nan. Tell thy Dick. 
My poor dearie. You be my dear love now. 
Nan. 

Nan. If you love me, Dick — 0, my love! 
Us together! Us needn't fear what they say. 
Us could go away, Dick. To America. Us'd 
be 'appy there. Dick, take me out of this. 



58 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act Jl 

All we 'ave is our lives, Dick. With love, us'd 
never want. Us'd 'ave that, my love. Take 
me, Dick. 

Dick. I'll take you, darling. To-night. To- 
night I'll tell them. 

Nan. In spite of — even if — what I 'ave to 
say? 

Dick. No matter what it is, dear. To- 
night, now. To-night. When the fiddler 
comes. 

Nan. Ah! my beloved! 

Dick. I'll claim you. Before them all, I'll 
claim you. 

Nan. Your wife, my blessed. 

Dick. Kiss me, once more, dear. 

Nan. Before they come. 

[Outside the door there is a shuffling and 
giggling.] 

A Voice. They be in. I hear 'em. 

A Voice. They ben't. 



Act //] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 59 

A Voice. Don't Artie. {Together, rapidly.] 

A Voice. Sh! 

A Voice. All together. 

A Voice. One after the other. 

Dick. Here they are. 

Nan. My beloved! My own. 

Voices. 

"Joan, to the maypole away let us on 
The time is short and will be gone — " 

[They stop and giggle.'] 

Another. They ben't. 

[One hums the tune.] 

Dick. To-night. Before them all. When 
the fiddle begins. My wife. 

Nan. My husband. 

Voices. ''Where your beauties may be 
seen." Bang! Bang! Bang! 

[They knock the door. The Lovers break, 
Mrs. Pargetter and Jenny run downstairs as 

Nan flings the door open. Enter old Gaffer 



60 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Pearce, Artie of that ilk, Tommy Arker and 
two Girls.] 

Mrs. p. 'Ere you be. 'Ow nice it is to see 
you. [She kisses the girls and looks hard at 
Nan.] 

Jenny. [To Dick.] Ah, Mr. Gurvil. 'Ave 
you brought I the rose as you promised? 

Dick. You don't want no roses. 

Jenny. You ain't very polite, Mr. Dick. 

Dick. You got roses in your cheeks, you 
'ave. 

Mrs. p. 'Ow be you, gaffer? 

[General salutation.] 

Artie. Granfer doan't 'ear you, unless you 
'it 'im. [Shouts in his ear,] 'Ow be you, 
granfer? 

Gaffer. [Looking at Nan.] Twice I seen 
her, twice. Her've gone by on the road. With 
a rose in 'er 'air. And 'er eyes shone. Twice. 
In April. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 61 

Artie. 'Ere, gaffer! Sit down 'ere. 'E can 
fiddle still, th'owd granfer do; but 'e doan't 
talk, not to strangers. 

A Girl. Us seed some strangers in the vil- 
lage, Mrs. Pargetter. 

Mrs. p. Ah? 

Tom. They were askin' where your 'ouse 
was. Them and parson. 

Artie. 'Ave you been a-robbin', Mrs. Par- 
getter? 

Mrs. Par. A-robbin'! No. I 'ave enough 
of thieves without me going stealin', I 'ope. 

Artie. Well. One of 'em be a runner, 'e be. 

Dick. Yes, for I seed 'en too. 

Mrs. p. 0! So you didn't come with th' 
others, then, Dick? 

Dick. Noa. But I seen 'en. 

All. I wonder whatever they do want! 

Mrs. Par. Well. If they're coming 'ere, us 



62 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

shall soon know. I should a-thought the pleece 
could a-caught their own thieves. 

[Old Pargetter comes downstairs, button- 
ing his waistcoat.] 

Mr. p. Aha! Aha! 

All. 'Ow be you, Mr. Pargetter? 

Mr. Par. [Saluting.] Why, 'ow beautiful 
all you girls be looking! 'Ullo, Dick! You be 
quite the bridegroom. Why gaffer, what a old 
Pocahontas you be, to be sure! 'Ave you 
brought your fiddle? 

Gaffer. [Still staring at Nan.] 'Oo be 
her? On the roads, shining, I've seen 'er. Scat- 
tering blossoms, blossoms. 

Jenny. [After glancing at Gaffer.] So 
you come 'ere early, Dick. Why Nan, do look. 
You 'aven't a-done your 'air. Look, Mother, at 
Nan's 'air! 

Mrs. Par. What in the name of Fate d'you 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 63 

'ave that rose in your 'air for? Any why d'yer 
come down with your 'air like that? 

Nan. I had to open the door. I had to 
light the candle. 

Gaffer. Give I a cup of red wine and a cup 
of white wine, and honey. [Coming towards 
her.] And a apple and a — I be goin' to fiddle 
joy to the feet of the bride. 

Artie. You be going to do wonders, you be. 
Sit down, you old stupe. Ain't no bride 'ere. 

Mr. p. [To the Girls.] There be brides for 
us all. With all you lovely young things. 
Nothing like 'aving a sweet'eart. Now! You 
ladies, you'll want to take off your things. 

Artie. 'Ow about us? 

Mr. Par. One sect at a time. Like the 
sheep goin' through a 'edge. Per'aps you 
ladies'U go upstairs with Nan and Jenny 'ere. 

Nan. Come, Ellen. 



64 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Jenny. 'Ere! Give I your brolly. 

[The Girls go upstairs.] 

Mr. Par. Now, you gentlemen. Come on 
in 'ere with me. [He leads them to the inner 
room.] 

Mrs. Par. [As Dick follows.] Oh, Dick. 

Dick. Ess, Mrs. Pargetter. 

Mrs. Par. I see you 'ave your things off. 
Just 'elp me a moment, there's a good lad. 

Dick. Ess, Mrs. Pargetter. What do 'e 
want done? 

Mrs. Par. Us must 'ave all clear for danc- 
ing. I'll nip them candles over 'ere to the 
dresser. There. Now 'elp me lift the table 
over. There! You was ^ere early, wasn't yer, 
Dick? 

Dick. Nothin' to speak of. 'Ow about 
them chairs? 

Mrs. Par. They'll do nicely. I suppose 
Nan let you in? 




At Broad Oak 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 65 

Dick. Ess. Miss Nan done. 

Mrs. Par. You two been 'aving a fine game, 
I know. 

Dick. Ah? 

Mrs. Par. Don't tell me you 'aven't. Did 
she kiss yer? 

Dick. [Sullenly.] Never you mind. 

Mrs. Par. Oh, I don't mind. But I got 
eyes, I 'ave. 

Dick. Oh! What good 'ave they done yer? 

Mrs. Par. 0, when I see a girl with 'er face 
all flushed, and 'er 'air all 'anging down, and a 
rose stuck over 'er ear, and a young man by 'er 
as flustered as what you are — Well — I can — 

Dick. What can you? 

Mrs. Par. Well, I know they don't come 
like that of their own. 

Dick. [Sullenly.] Do you? 

Mrs. Par. I ain't blaming yer, mind. 

Dick. Aren't yer? 



66 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 11 

Mrs. Par. I know what it is to be young, 
myself. But all the same — 

Dick. What? 

Mrs. Par. Oh, nothing. 

Dick. What were you going to say? 

Mrs. Par. Nothing. 

Dick. You were going to say something. 

Mrs. Par. No, I weren't. Only it mid seem 
strange. You see, your dad's so partikler. 

Dick. Oh! 'Im. 

Mrs. Par. 'As 'e took you in 'is partner 
yet? Your dad? 

Dick. No. 

Mrs. Par. No, I know 'e 'aven't. I could 
tell yer something. A little surprise — about 
your dad. 

Dick. What's that? 

Mrs. Par. Somethin' 'e said to me. I don't 
know as I've a right to tell yer. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 67 

Dick. Abut my being took in as partner to 
'im? 

Mrs. Par. It was meant as a secret. But 
there — since — us can 'ave no secrets, can us? 

Dick. Why, no — I'm — 

Mrs. Par. Well — your dad says to me, 
''Mrs. Pargetter" 'e says, "I'm gettin' to be a 
old man, I want to see my boy settled. Now 
then," 'e says, "The day my boy marries I 'ave 
'im bound my partner. And £20 to 'elp 'im 
furnish." 

Dick. Good iron! A old chanti-cleer. Balm 
in Gilead, as the saying is. 

Mrs. Par. "Yes," I says, "And more no 
mother could ask." [Change of voice.] That 
girl'd forsake 'er 'eavenly crown for you, Dick. 
She^s drooped like a lily of the vale since she's 
been away. If you'd seen that girl as I seen 
'er, you'd 'ave yourself arst this Sunday. Or 



68 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

you'll 'ave 'er goin^ into a decline. 'Ave you 
arst 'er yet? 

Dick. Yes. I arst 'er just now. Just this 
minute ago. 

Mrs. Par. When she was at the door 'ere? 

Dick. When I come in. 

Mrs. Par. Wot did she say, I wonder? No 
tellin', I suppose? 

Dick. I thought as you'd seen. I mean, 
from what you said. 

Mrs. Par. No. I never seed. 

Dick. From 'er 'avin' 'er 'air down. The 
rose and that. 

Mrs. Par. 'Air down? She 'adn't 'er 'air 
down. I done it myself. 

Dick. Yes, she 'ad 'er 'air down. You 
said — just now — 

Mrs. Par. Jenny 'ad? 

Dick. No, Nan. 

Mrs. Par. Nan : wot's she got to do with it? 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 69 

Dick. I've just arst 'er to marry me, Mrs. 
Pargetter. And her 'ave said yes. [A paiLse.] 
It'll be nice bein' a partner and that, won't it. 
I'll be able to 'ave the trap of a evenin'. And 
I'll 'ave money for — 

Mrs. Par. [Grimly.] You be 'is partner! 
You'll be your dad's partner if you marry 
Jenny — that's your dad's arrangement. That's 
wot ^e's planned. 

Dick. My dad 'ave planned — 

Mrs. Par. " 'E shall marry as I choose," 'e 
says, "my son shall. If 'e don't know which 
side 'is bread is buttered, there's the door. 'E 
can beg." 

Dick. 'E can beg! 

Mrs. Par. ''Not a penny will 'e ever 'ave 
from me," 'e says. Now. 

[Mrs. Pargetter watches him.] 

Dick. So! 



70 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Mrs. Par. D'you think we'd let you throw 
Jenny over, after getting 'er talked about? 

Dick. It be different 'avin' a kiss or two of 
a girl and wantin' to marry 'er. 

[Re-enter Pargetter slowly, looking hard 
at Dick who is very white. He walks to the 
dresser, picks up a corkscrew, and walks slowly 
out, looking hard at Dick but saying nothing.] 

Mrs. Par. Now then. 

Dick. [Moistening his lips.] Per'aps my 
father'll 'ear me explain. 

Mrs. Par. Wot'U you tell 'im? 

Dick. Tell 'im as Jenny ain't no more to 
me 'n what a pig's milt is. Tell 'im as I love 
Nan. And as I be goin' to marry 'er. 

Mrs. Par. [Slowly and grimly.] You'll tell 
'im for instans, you'll tell your father, for in- 
stans, as you're goin' to marry a girl whose dad 
was 'ung at Glorster, like the thief 'e was. Just 
afore last Christmas. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 71 

Dick. Nan's dad wos? 

Mrs. Par. [Nods her head.] And 'er 
mother 'ad men come to see 'er. [A pause.] 
'Ow'll yer tell that to yer dad? 

Dick. My Lord Almighty! Daughter of 
one of them! 

Mrs. Par. Two of them. 

Dick. My 'oly Saviour! 

Mrs. Par. Your 'art out of your bosom like 
a engine it does go. 

Dick. I'll marry 'er yet to spite yer. 

Mrs. Par. Wot'll yer marry 'er on? You 
ain't got a penny. She ain't got a penny. [A 
paiLse.] I wonder she never told yer about 'er 
dad's being 'ung. They 'ad yeomanry in front 
of the gaol. Quite an affair. Didn't she never 
tell yer? 

Dick. No. 'Er was going to. My! Oh 
my — 



72 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

Mrs. Par. Per'aps she waited till she 'ooked 
yer. 'Ark at 'em in there! 

[Laughter inside and one crows like a cock.] 
She is artful. I never see a deeper girl than 
wot she is. 

Dick. Oh, 'old yer tongue, you old devil! 
I've 'ad my gruel. 

Mrs. Par. Come, come. Be a man. 

Dick. Mrs. Pargetter. I mean, I'm — Mrs. 
Pargetter — 

Mrs. Par. Yes? Wot? 

Dick. I dunno — I dunno wot to think. 

Mrs. Par. Your dad'U know wot to think. 

Dick. I dunno ! If I 'ad a little of my own ! 

Mrs. Par. Oh, if yer like to starve, starve. 
Walk. Pad yer 'oof. 

Dick. Ah! A tramper! My 'eavenly King! 

Mrs. Par. Lots on 'em pass 'ere. Dirt on 
'em. Feet comin' through their boots. You 
see 'em nick crusts out of the gutter. Berries 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 73 

of a 'edge, some on 'em. Froze stifif, some on 
'em, under a rick. Lots on 'em. 

Dick. Ah! Don't! I can't! [A pause.] 

Mrs. Par. Well, Dick? Wot's it to be? Is 
it Jenny? 

Dick. O damn it, yes, it's Jenny, Jenny. 
Like 'avin' a cold poultice! Very well, it's 
Jenny then. Now I 'ope yer satisfied. 

Mrs. Par. [Kissing him.] There. / knew 
yer wouldn't act dishonourable. I knowed you 
better. 

[The door opens, the men come in, singing 
and laughing. Artie Pearce crows like a cock. 
The Girls come dovm, hearing the noise.] 
Wot a time you people 'ave been. 

Mr. Par. Wot 'a you been doin' all the 
time? 

Artie. [Singing.] 

Making love in the evenin* 
Making love in the evenin' 



74 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

A drop of zider sets one up like [wiping his 
mouth.] 

Mrs. Par. [To Pargetter.] You'll 'ear 
later. All in good time. 'Ere Jenny, 'elp me 
with these chairs! I've watched it all right. 
Dick and you I mean. It's settled. 

Jenny. [With a chair.] Give I that one, 
Mother. Mother, wot fun us shall 'ave. 

Mr. Par. Now us be goin' to 'ave a dance. 

A Girl. Be you a-goin' to dance, Mr. Par- 
getter? 

Mr. Par. Course I be. Come, gaffer. Out 
with that fiddle o' yourn. 

A Girl. I do love a fiddle. 

Jenny. A barrel hargin be good, too. 

Mr. Par. Now, gaffer. Now, no long faces, 
anybody. Us be goin' to 'ave great times, ben't 
us? 

Nan. Wait till I set thy chair right, gaffer. 

Gaffer. [Querulously.] On the roads, I 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 75 

seen you. Surely. And it was all — all a- 
blowing? 

Nan. Sit 'ere, now. And 'ave this cushion. 
Artie. Don't let granfer fall into the fire. 
'E will, if you don't watch it. 

Gaffer. [Bowing in the old style.] Beauty 
makes women be proud. There be few beau- 
ties 'as the 'umbleness to 'elp a old man. Ah, 
there be no pleasure for the old but to 'muse 
the young. I be a old man. A old, old man! 

Nan. The old be wise, gaffer. The old 'ave 
peace, after their walking the world. 

Mrs. Par. Stuff! [A giggle.] 

Gaffer. There be no peace to 'im as sees 
you, goin' by in beauty, puttin' fire to 'em. 

Girls. Us be waitin'. Us be all ready! 

Mr. Par. Take your— 

Gaffer. [To Nan.] What tune will the 
bride 'ave? A ring of bells and the maids fling- 
ing flowers at 'er. Like me and my girl 'ad. 



76 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act II 

[Pause.] I 'ad a flower of 'er to go to church 
with. [Pause.] They put my flower under the 
mould after. [Pause.] I 'eard the mould go 
knock! [He tunes his fiddle as he speaks.] No 
one remembers my white flower. [Pau^e.] 
That's sixty year ago. 

Nan. You'll meet her again, gaffer. Per'aps 
she's by you now. 

Gaffer. [With a lifting voice — half rising.] 
So you've a come, my 'andsome — 

Mrs. Par. 'Ere. [She taps Gaffer's hand.] 
Play! 'Ere! Fiddle. [To Nan.] Don't you 
see you're upsettin' 'im. Move away. One'd 
think you'd no feelings. 

Mr. Par. Take your partners. 

Mrs. Par. Now, 'ave you all got your part- 
ners? 

All. No. Don't be so silly, Artie. Now, 
do be quiet. 'Ow are us to dance! [Etc., etc.] 
You come over 'ere, by me. 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 77 

[Nan stands a little apart, looking at Dick, 
waiting on him.] 

Mrs. Par. Now, now, we're all 'ere. 'Ush 
a moment. Afore we begin there's a little bit 
o' noos just 'appened, as I'd like to say about. 

Artie. 'Ear! 'Ear! 

Mr. Par. [To Artie.] You be quiet! [He 
grins at Artie approvingly.] 

Mrs. Par. As I'm sure '11 come as a great 
surprise. Really, it quite took my breath 
away! It did, really. Now, I mustn't stop you 
young people dancing. But I must just tell 
you this little bit of noos. He, he! Why — 

Artie. We ain't lookin'. 

A Girl. Be quiet, Artie. 

Mrs. Par. Jenny and Dick 'ere 'ave made a 
match of it. I 'ope the present company'U 
wish the 'appy couple joy! Dick! Jenny! 
Give me your 'ands. There. [She clasps 
them.] I 'ope you'll be very 'appy together. 



78 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN Uct 11 

Dick [kissing him] you're my son now, ain't 
yer? 

Artie. Spare 'is blushes, Mother. 

All. Why, who'd ever a- thought it! I do 
'ope youll be 'appy. 'Ow sudden ! Quite took 
my breath away! Jenny, come 'ere, and let I 
kiss 'ee. I s'pose us can't kiss you, Mr. Dick? 
No, Mr. Dick'U be quite the married man. 'E 
looks it already. 

Nan. Dick, Dick, oh, Dick! What, oh, 
Dick, you weren't playing, Dick? 

Dick. Don't Dick me. Get out! 

Mrs. Par. Wot are yer bothering Dick for? 

Nan. I thought 'e'd something — something 
to say to me. 

Dick. You thought I was a oly scrawf, 
didn't yer? 

Nan. I thought I was a 'appy woman, Dick. 
[She looks at him and goes slowly over to a 
chair. As she goes.] 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 79 

Mr. Par. Now, Nan. What are you waitin' 
for? Take your place ^ere and dance, now. 

Mrs. Par. Per'aps Nan is like 'er father. 

Jenny. [Sliding her feet about. '\ 'Ow's 
that, Mother? 

Mrs. Par. Per'aps she can only dance on 
air. 

Nan. [Going to her.] Yes, yes, I am like 
my father. You coward to say that. 

Mr. Par. Wot are you thinking of, with 
company present? 

Mrs. Par. You leave her to me. I'll deal 
with her. [To the compcmy.] She thought if 
she 'ad 'er 'air down an' 'er neck un'ooked as she 
might 'ave a go in at Dick, 'ere. 

Tommy. 'Ope us didn't come too soon, 
Dick. 

Jenny. She believes in giving all for love. 
Cousin Nan do. 

Mrs. Par. She'll give no more in this house. 



80 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN lAct II 

Why, 'er dad was ^ung for a thief only last 
Christmas. 

Mr. Par. Now, Mother, that's — ^No, she de- 
serves it. She ain't been straight. 

All. Ah. 

Nan. Yes. I'd like you all to know that. 
My dad was 'ung at Glorster. I'd oughtn't to 
a shook your 'ands without I'd told you. I 
tried 'ard to tell you, Dick. Dick. Dick. I 
give you all I had. You 'ad me. Like I never 
was. Not to any. O Dick, I 'ope you'll be 
very, very 'appy. 

Dick. 'Ere. Go and say your piece to Gaf- 
fer there. 'E 'asn't many pleasures, I've done 
with yer. 'Ere, Jenny, you be goin' to dance 
with I. 

Jenny. [Giggling,] I think I could 'elp, 
Dick Gurvil. 

Dick. 'Elp me then. Come on. 

Jenny. Law. It make my heart all of a 



Act in THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 81 

flower. That's wot Cousin Nan says. I s'pose 
it must be very clever if *er says it. 

Nan. I wish — I wish the grass was over my 
»ed. 

Dick. 'Ere. Us wish to dance. 

[Nan goes aside.] 

Gaffer. A bride's tears be zoon a-dried. 
But love be a zweet vlower. A girt red vlower. 
Her do last for ever. For ever. [He plays 
''Joan to the Maypole/'] Like me and my girl, 
for ever! 

[They dance.] 

curtain 



:i.?v* 



ACT III 

Scene: — The Same. Nan at table at ba^ck, 
w A noise within. Gaffer in his chair. 

Nan. Life be that bitter. O dad, life be 
that bitter. 

Gaffer. You be young to 'ave life bitter 
on you. 

Nan. It isn't time makes us old. 

Gaffer. Some on us is glad to go away. 
Quite early. 

Nan. I wish I could go away. I wish I 
could go away. 

Gaffer. Us'll be took away, afore long. 

Nan. I'd like to be took away now. 

Gaffer. IVe a-wanted to be took away 
ever since my vlower were took. Many a long 

82 



^&^!l 



Act im THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 83 

year. And I grawed to be a old, old man. I 
were out of work sometimes. And I be old now. 
Very old. 

Nan. Per'aps youll join 'er soon, gaffer. 

Gaffer. Noa. Not for a girt while. I 'ave 
'er little grave. I 'ave 'er little grave to see to. 
With vlowers and that. If I 'ad girt bags of 
gold like Squire, I could 'ave a 'edstone put. 
I'd 'ave 'er little grave all carved. I'd 'ave 
posies cut. And 'er face down on the stone. 
All in white I'd 'ave my vlower cut. White 
stone. There be no kings 'd 've whiter. But I 
can't never avord a 'edstone. So I ben't goin' 
to die. Noa. I ben't goin' to die. 

Nan. When love be dead, gaffer, what be 
there else? 

Gaffer. There be the grave. It be all the 
poor 'as, just the grave. And I got my viewer's 
grave. Eight maids in white there was. No 
older than my vlower they was. And there 



84 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

were all white vlowers on 'er. Eight maids in 
white, maidy. And the bell tolling. Oh, my 
white blossom to go under the grass. 

Nan. She was very young to be took, 
Gaffer. 

Gaffer. They was eight maids in white 
when they carried 'er. Then they was women. 
Beautiful they were. Then they grew old. 
One by one. And then their 'ouses were to let, 
with the windows broke. And grass and grass. 
They be all gone. When I be gone there'll be 
none to tell the beauty of my vlower. There'll 
be none as knows where 'er body lies. I 'ave 
'er little grave all done with shells. And the 
vlowers that do come up, they be little words 
from 'er. Little zhining words. Fifty-nine 
year them little words come. 

Nan. I got a grave, too, gaffer. And I 'ave 
fifty-nine years to come. 



Act III] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 85 

Gaffer. My bright 'ansome. Oo 'ave you 
in yer grave? 

Nan. I 'ave my 'eart in the grave, gaffer. 
But there'll be no vlowers come up out of 'er. 
I shall be 'ere fifty-nine year per'aps. Like you 
been. Fifty-nine year. Twelve times fifty- 
nine is — and four times that. Three hundred 
and sixty-five days in a year. Up, and work, 
and lie down again. But dead, dead, dead. All 
the time dead. No. No. Not that. Gaffer. 
How did thy vlower die? 

Gaffer. There come a gold rider in the eve- 
ning, maidy. 

Nan. You was by 'er. Gaffer? 

Gaffer. She look out of the window, my 
white vlower done. She said, ^'The tide. The 
tide. The tide coming up the river." And a 
horn blew. The gold rider blew a 'om. And 
she rose up, my white vlower done. And she 
burst out a-laughing, a-laughing. And 'er fell 



86 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 111 

back, my white vlower done. Gold 'air on the 
pillow. And blood. Oh, blood. Blood of my 
girl. Blood of my vlower. 

Nan. In your arms, gaffer? 

Gaffer. On my 'eart. My white vlower lay 
on my 'eart. The tide. The tide. The tide 
coming up the river. 

Nan. She was 'appy to die so, gaffer. 
Along of 'er true love. You 'ad the sweet of 
love along of your vlower. But them as 'as the 
sharp of love. Them as never 'as no sweet. 

I wish the tide was comin' up over my 'ed, 

1 do. 

Gaffer. It be full moon to-night, maidy. 
Nan. Full moon. It come up misty. And 
red. 

Gaffer. It was red on the pillow. Then. 
Nan. The harvest-moon. 
Gaffer. There'll be a high tide to-night. 
Nan. a high tide. 



Act III] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 87 

Gaffer. For some on us. 

Nan. Why for some on us, gaffer? 

Gaffer. The tide be comin' for some on us. 

Nan. For you, gaffer? 

Gaffer. Ther've come no message yet for 
me. But the tide be a-comin' for some on us. 
It 'ave someone every time. It 'ad my viewer 
one time. it be a gallows thing, the tide. 
First there be the mud and that. Sand banks. 
Mud banks. And the 'erons fishing. Sand in 
the river, afore the tide comes. Mud. The 
cows come out o' pasture to drink. They come 
on the sand. Red cows. But they be afraid 
of the tide. 

Nan. They 'aven't no grief, the beasts asn't. 
Cropping in the meadows when the sun do 
zhine. 

Gaffer. They be afraid of the tide. For 
first there come a-wammerin' and a-wammer- 
in\ Miles away that wammerin' be. In the 



88 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

sea. The shipmen do cross theirselves. And it 
come up. It come nearer. Wammerin' ! Wam- 
merin'! 'Ush it says. 'Ush it says. 'Ush it 
says. And there come a girt wash of it over 
the rock. White. White. Like a bird. Like 
a swan a-gettin' up out of the pool. 

Nan. Bright it goes. High. High up. 
Flashing. 

Gaffer. And it wammers and it bubbles. 
And then it spreads. It goes out like soldiers. 
It go out into a line. It curls. It curls. It go 
toppling and toppling. And on it come. And 
on it come. 

Nan. Fast. Fast. 

A black line. And the foam all 
creamin' on it. 

Gaffer. It be a snake. A snake. A girt 
water snake with its 'ed up. Swimming. On 
it come. 

Nan. a bright crown upon it. And hungry. 



Act nil THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 89 

Gaffer. With a rush. With a roar. And 
its claws clutchin' at you. Out they go at the 
sides, the claws do. 
Nan. The claws of the tide. 
Gaffer. Singing. Singing. And the sea 
a-roaring after. 0, it takes them. They stand 
out in the river. And it goes over them. Over 
them. Over them. One roarin' rush. 

Nan. Deep. Deep. Water in their eyes. 
Over their hair. And to-night it be the harvest 
tide. 

Gaffer. [As though waking from a dream.] 
The sahnon-fishers '11 lose their nets to-night. 
The tide'U sweep them away. 0, 
I've known it. It takes the nets up miles. 
Miles. They find 'em high up. Beyond Glor- 
ster. Beyond 'Artpury. Girt golden flag- 
flowers over 'em. And apple-trees a-growin' 
over 'em. Apples of red and apples of gold. 
They fall into the water. The water be still 



90 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

there, where the apples fall. The nets 'ave 
apples in them. 

Nan. And fish, gaffer? 

Gaffer. Strange fish. Strange fish out of 
the sea. 

Nan. Yes. Strange fish indeed, gaffer. A 
strange fish in the nets to-morrow. A dumb 
thing. Knocking agen the bridges. Something 
white. Something white in the water. They'd 
pull me out. Men would. They'd touch my 
body. [Shuddering.] I couldn't. I couldn't. 

[Loud laughter from within, and a clatter of 
knives. The door opens. Enter Jenny from 
inner room, carrying a dirty plate, with dirty 
knife and fork. As Jenny comes in, Mrs. Par- 
getter is heard off.] 

Mrs. Par. Is she in there? 

Jenny. Yes. 

Mrs. p. Tell 'er to come in. 



Act III] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 91 

Jenny. [To Nan.] You're to go in, 
mother says. 

Par. [Heard off.] 'Ere, shut that door be- 
hind yer. It blows my 'ed off. [Jenny turns 
and shuts the door.] 

Nan. What 'ave you got there, Jenny? 

Jenny. [Uneasily.) You're to go in, 
mother says. 

Nan. [Rising.] Never mind what mother 
says. Answer my question, my friend, my girt 
friend, my Httle creeping friend. What 'ave 
you got there? 

Jenny. [Shrinking.] A mutton parsty pie 
for gaffer, as mother sent. It'll be a little treat 
for 'im. 

Nan. [Looking.] Whose plate have you 
brought it on, my little friend? 

Jenny. [Stammering.] Mother's plate. 

Nan. It is a dirty plate. And the knives 
and forks are dirty. 



92 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

Jenny. [Confidently.] Gaffer won't know 
any different. It's good enough for an old man 
like 'im. 'Ere, gaffer. 'Ere's some supper for 
yer. 

Nan. [Going up to her.] No, my friend, 
my girt friend, my little Judas friend, my little 
pale snake friend. It's not good enough. Did 
you 'ave one of them pies? 

Jenny. [Blustering.] You can — I ain't 
goin' to — 

Nan. Did you? The sheep died. The 
sheep died last week. Did you eat one of them 
pies? 

Jenny. No, I know what the sheep die of. 
Gaffer won't mind. 'Ere, gaffer. 

Nan. [Fiercely.] Sit down, my little 
friend. Sit down and eat that pie yourself. 
Eat it. Eat it or I'll kill you. Eat it. You 
with no charity to old or young. You shall eat 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 93 

the charity of the uncharitable. Eat it. You 
little snake. Eat it. 

Jenny. I'll — I'll send mother to you. 

Nan. [Preventing her.] No. Oh, no. 
[Forcing her into a chair.] Eat. Eat. 
(Jenny in great terror begins to eat.] 

Jenny. I be goin' to be sick. 

Nan. Eat. (Jenny eats. Then shrinks 
back.] 

Jenny. [After a mouthful] Wot are you 
lookin' at me for? 

Nan. I'm looking at my friend. My friend. 

Jenny. [After a mouthful.] I can't eat 
with you watchin' me. 

Nan. Yes, Jenny. It is your bride cake. 
Your bride cake. Your bride cake for your 
marriage, Jenny. 

Jenny. [Screaming.] Don't look at me 
like that. 

Nan. [Coming up to her and glaring down 



94 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act 111 

into her face.] Yes, Jenny. I must look at you 
like this. I must look into your soul, Jenny. 
Into your soul. [Slowly and quietly.] 

Jenny. Ah-h. 

Nan. You 'ave pale eyes, Jenny. Pale eyes. 
I can look into your soul. D'you know what I 
see, Jenny? [A pause.] I see your soul. It is 
cold, Jenny. It's a little mean cold, lying thing. 
You're a lucky one, Jenny. You cannot love 
nor hate. A dog loves more and hates more. 
A worm do. D'you know what comes to such 
souls, Jenny? 

Jenny. [Gasping.] Mother! Mother! 

Nan. I'll tell you, Jenny. I'll tell your fu- 
ture to you. I see your life very plain in your 
pale eyes. I see a girt town, with lamps. And 
I see you in a public 'ouse, Jenny, with red on 
your white cheeks. And your pale eyes are 
swollen with drink. And you've a raggy skirt. 
And you cough. And you tremble. That is the 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 95 

pay in this world, Jenny, for a little cold mean 
lying thing. And I see a dirty room with a 
dirty bed, and you lying dead on it. Your 
painted cheeks on the pillow. Till the town 
dead-cart come. Out with you. Out with you. 
Out with you. [Jenny totters, gasping, to the 
door.] 

Jenny. Ah. Ah-h ! [She leans up against 
the door, holding it by the latch, in terror; she 
is only half conscious.] 

Gaffer. [Rousing and shading his eyes, 
looking up.] Be you ready for your journey, 
maidy? 

Nan. My journey. 

Gaffer. You must eat and drink, my 'and- 
some. 'E be coming. 
Nan. Who be coming? 
Gaffer. The gold rider, maidy. 'E be 
comin' on the road. 

Nan. The gold rider. We will eat and 



96 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN Uct III 

drink, gaffer. It be a long road to go. [She 
opens oven and brings out the apple-pasty; 
then takes a carving knife, and plate. Then the 
brandy bottle. She cuts the pasty and gives 
food to Gaffer.] 

Gaffer. [Rising unsteadily and holding up 
his hands.] Bless this food to thy service. 
Bless the Giver of all good things. Amen. [He 
eats.] 

Nan. Amen. [The outer door is knocked. 
Footsteps outside.] Drink, gaffer. [She gives 
him a sup of brandy.] 

Gaffer. [Drinking to her.] A fair journey. 
Vlowers on the road afore you. gold 'oofs. 
Gold 'oofs. Be swift. Swift. [A knocking at 
outer door.] 

A Voice. Is anyone inside there? Open. 

Nan. Drink, gaffer. [Violent knocking out- 
side. The inner door is shaken by those within. 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 97 

Jenny holds the latch and keeps them jrom 
entering.'] 

Jenny. ! ! Don't let 'er in on me. Don't 
let 'er in on me. [Falling against the wall.'] 
Oh, oh. 

[Enter the Pargetters and Dick. The 
others cluster at the doorway.] 

Dick. [Seeing Jenny and glad to have Nan 
jor once in the wrong. Angrily.] Wot 'ave you 
been doin' to 'er? Eh? 

Mrs. Par. [Advancing on Nan.] Why 
can't you open the door? Standing staring 
there. 

Par. Wot 'ave she done to you, Jenny? 

Mrs. Par. [Turning.] Never you 'eed wot 
she's done to 'er. You go and open the door. 
'Ere, Jenny. Go on inside. Go on now. Be- 
fore they see yer. 

Dick. She's — she's — Best 'ave 'er locked up, 
mother. 



98 THE TRAGEDY OF XAS {Act III 

Mrs. Vab,. Open the door, there. 

[Jexxy totters out.'] 

Mr. Par. Wot's brought 'er into that state? 

Nan. She has seen herself, uncle. There's 
few can bear that sight. A worm in the dust 
fears it. 

Mrs. p. You don't mean to say as you've 
cut the parsty. 

Var. 'Ush. They'll 'ear yer. 

Mrs. p. [In a blood-curdling voice.'] And 
look at your uncle's bottle. If I don't give it 
yer for this. [A knock.] 

A Voice Without. Come on. Come on. 
I've got no time to waste. 

Mrs. p. [Going to the door with her best 
society smile.] I didn't 'ear yer knock. Wot 
with comp'ny. I 'ope I 'aven't kep you waitin', 
I'm sure. [Peering at visitors.] Good evenin', 
sir. Will, fetch chairs for the gentlemen. Wliy, 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 99 

it's Mr. Drew. Come in, sir. Won't you please 
ter come in, sir. 

Drew. Thank you. 

[Enter Parson Drew, Captain Dixon and 
a Constable carrying a handbag.] 

Par. [Fetching chairs.] Good evening sir. 

Drew. Good evenin', Pargetter. 

Par. [To Dixon.] Good evenin', sir. 

Dixon. [Coldly to Constable.] Put that 
bag on the table. 

Drew. Well, Dick. Is that you, Ellen? 
You grow so fast. Nan. Yes. Yes. Good eve- 
ning, everybody. 

Par. [In a stage whisper to Mrs. Parget- 
ter.] 'Ave the table cleared. 

Dixon. [Irritably.] Never mind the table. 

Mrs. Par. You must excuse things bein' a 
bit untidy, sir. Wot with 'avin' company, we're 
all topsy turvy, as you mid say. [Suavely to 



100 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

Nan.] Jest take that parsty off the table, Nan, 
there's a good girl. 

Nan. I've done with make-believes, Aunt. 
One makes believe too long. 

Mrs. p. [To Drew.] She loves a bit of 
play-actin', sir. She do it wonderful, consid- 
erin'. 

Dixon. Oh, Drew. Drew. [Irritably.'] 

Mrs. p. She's been givin' us a bit out of 
Shakespeare as they call it. 

Drew. Yes. Yes. Yes. Now hush, please, 
a moment everybody. [Everybody is silent.'] 
[Raising a hand.] I'm afraid we come at a 
very inconvenient time. But — [Seeing those 
in the door.] Oh, just come in there, will you? 
Yes. Yes. It's a very pleasant duty. It's not 
often that I have such a pleasure as I have to- 
night. [Taking chair.] Yes. Thank you. 
Sit down, Mr. Dixon. 

Dixon. [Coldly.] Captain Dixon. 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 101 

Drew. Yes, yes, to be sure. Captain Dixon, 
to be sure. I beg your pardon. Captain Dixon. 
I'm sure you'll all be very glad when you hear 
what it is that makes us interrupt your eve- 
ning's pleasure. 

Dixon. [Tartly.] Excuse me, Mr. Drew. 
But hadn't we better come to business? 
Drew. Yes, yes, but — 
Dixon. [Mildly.] I shall miss the coach 
back to town. 

Drew. 0, no, no, no, no. 0, no, no, no. Oh, 
you've ten minutes yet. More. You've got 
lots of time. You'll hear the horn long before 
the coach is due. 

Mrs. p. Yes, sir. You'll 'ear the horn a 
long ways off. If it's the coach you want. 

Gaffer. The horn. The horn. Gold hoofs 
beating on the road. [He advances to the 
table.] They beat like the ticking of a 'eart. 
Soon. Very soon. The golden trump. 



102 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

Mrs. p. [Angrily.] Could ever anything! 
[Quietly.] You old stupe. Take 'im out, Will. 
Don't let 'im begin in 'ere. [To Dixon.] Don't 
mind 'im, sir. 'E's silly. 

[Gaffer goes to the door and looks out into 
the moonlight.] 

Gaffer. [At the door.] Maybe I'll meet 
'im on the road. 

[He goes out.] 

Drew. One of our — ^You know, eh. [Taps 
his forehead.] 

Dixon. [Sourly.] I thought it was an- 
other bit out of Shakespeare as they call it. 

Par. Yes, sir. 'E talks very strange some- 
times. 

Drew. Yes, yes, poor fellow. 

Dixon. I suppose this is the right house? 

Drew. Yes, of course. Yes, certainly, cer- 
tainly. 

Dixon. [Taking bag and unlocking it.] I 



Act lin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 103 

thought it might be the — the — ^Yes. Ye-es. 
Very well, then. [Suddenly.] Which of you is 
Nan Hardwick? 

Nan. I am that one. 

Dixon. Ye-es. You. Very well then. Is 
that correct, Mr. Drew? 

Drew. Certainly. Certainly. 

Dixon. Daughter of Mary Hardwick, and 
of — of Edward Hardwick who was — eh? 

Nan. Who was hanged at Gloucester. 

Dixon. Of Swanscombe, in the Hundred of 
— Yes. Very well then. [Turning to others.] 
You certify that this is that Nan Hardwick? 

The Others. Yes, sir. That be 'er. 

Dixon. Very well, then. That's not the 
horn. Drew? 

Drew. 0, no, no. 

Dixon. [Taking bag and papers out of 
handbag.] Have you a pen and ink in the 
house? 



104 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

Par. [Taking them from the dresser.] This 
is a pen and ink, sir. 

Dixon. Ye-es. [Writes.] This pen's — 
Drew, have you got a pen? [To Mrs. Par.] 
Give me a penwiper. [He wipes, and then 
mends pen with a penknife.] Ye-es, Ye-es. 
[Sharply.] Nan Hardwick, your father was — 
er — put to death for stealing a sheep near Aston 
Magna. No. Don't answer. That is the fact. 
Ye-es. Very well then. The sheep was the 
property of Mr. Nicols. Now it has been proved 
that your father, Edward Hardwick, had noth- 
ing to do with that sheep. 

Nan. And you come here, do you, to tell 
me that? You have a thousand men beneath 
you, a thousand strong men like the man there. 
And you have judges in scarlet, and lawyers in 
wigs. And a little child out of the road could 
have told you that my dad was innocent. A 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 105 

little child of the road. By once looking in his 
eyes. 

Dixon. I can't go into all that. You must 
keep to the point. [Drew whispers.] What? 
Yes. Yes. I daresay. 

Drew. [To Nan.] Let Captain Dixon fin- 
ish what he's got to say. 

Mrs. p. Where's yer manners gom? You 
wait till afterwards. 

Dixon. To continue. The sheep was stolen 
by Mr. Nicol's shepherd, who was the chief wit- 
ness against your father. 

Nan. The sheep was stolen by Richard 
Shapland. 

Dixon. [Staring at her.] Who has since 
confessed. 

All. Ah. Confessed. Think of that. There 
now. 

Dixon. A sad miscarriage of justice. Very 
well then. While we support the laws, we must 



106 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

be content to suffer from their occasional misap- 
plication. [Glances at his watch.] 

Drew. Lots of time. Lots of time. 

Dixon. Ye-es. But in this instance, the 
Home Office has decided to offer you some 
compensation. 

Nan. Some blood-money. Thirty pieces of 
silver. 

Dixon. No. It's more. It's fifty pounds. 
[He empties bag.] Will you count it over 
please, before signing the receipt? 

Nan. No. No. The blood and tears are 
sticky on it. 

Drew. She's upset. I'll count it. 

Par. [Pouring brandy for Nan.] 'Ere, 
Nan. 'Ave just a drop. 

[She refuses,] 

Others. Fifty pou-und. Fifty pou-und. 
Did you ever. 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 107 

Dick. [Muttering.] A 'orse and trap. 
And furnish a ^ouse. 

Drew. Fifty. Would you like to count it 
over, Pargetter? 

Par. No, thanky, sir, I'm sure. 

Dixon. [To Nan.] Are you satisfied? 
[Sharply.] Nan Hardwick. 

Nan. What d'you want more? 

Dixon. Are you satisfied that the sum is 
correct? 

Nan. Oh. The money. You know it is. 
Why go to all this trouble? Give me your pen. 
There. There's my name to your paper. Re- 
ceived. By me. Fifty pounds in gold. 

Dixon. And the date. Ye-es. I'll just add 
the date. [To the Constable.] Witness it, 
Horton. [The man signs. He looks at his 
watch again.] I shall miss that coach. 

Drew. Won't you think better of it, and 



108 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

stay the night? Stay, man, stay and see the 
tide. It's a wonderful sight. 

Dixon. No, thanks. No, thanks. [He 
gathers up his handbag.] Here you are, Hor- 
ton. [Gives him bag.] I hope the money may 
be a comfort to you. [To Nan.] Where can 
I catch this coach? 

Mrs. p. Just down the lane, sir. It is but 
a step. Keep on right down, sir. You can't miss 
it, sir. 

Par. You'll 'ear the 'arn go, sir. 

Dixon and Horton. Good night. [Going.] 

All. Good night, sir. Good night. Officer. 

Dick. [To Pargetter.] Wouldn't 'e take 
a drop of somethin'? 

Par. Noa. It's not for the likes of us to 
offer. 

Dick. You can't ever tell. 

Drew. I'm sure that what we have just 
heard has given us all a great deal of pleasure. 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 109 

I won't dwell on the satisfaction to yourself, 
Nan, for fear of giving you pain. But I am 
sure that your good aunt, who has been so kind 
to you — 

Mrs. p. No more than my sacred dooty, 
Mr. Drew. 

Drew. [Gallantly.] I will spare your 
blushes, Mrs. Pargetter. And all your young 
friends who are here to-night. I'm sure that 
they all feel with me^ — 

[Re-enter Dixon.] 

Dixon. Excuse me, Drew. Do show me the 
way to where the coach passes. These beastly 
lanes are — 

Drew. Yes. Yes. Certainly. Certainly. 
[To the Company.] I must wish you all good 
night. So sorry to have interrupted your eve- 
ning's amusement. 

Mrs. p. a pleasure I'm sure, sir. 

Drew. [To Nan.] By the way, Nan. Per- 



110 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

haps I should say Miss Hardwick, now you're 
an heiress. Mrs. Drew would like to see you at 
the Rectory to-morrow — She thinks you might 
like to live with us as our housekeeper. 

Dixon. Come on. Come on. 

Drew. Coming, Captain Dixon. But we'll 
go into that to-morrow. Shall we? 

Nan. Thank you, sir. I hope you'll thank 
Mrs. Drew, too, sir. But I shall not come to 
the Rectory to-morrow. Unless — unless the 
fishers bring their take to you. For you to 
choose your tithe. 

Drew. [Puzzled.] Well. Ah. Ah yes. 
Well, think it over. Sleep on it. 

Nan. I shall sleep soundly on it. 

Drew. Good night, everybody. Now, Cap- 
tain Dixon. 

[Exit] 
[Returning,] Mrs. Pargetter! 



Act im THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 111 

Mrs. p. Yes, sir. [He draws her aside and 
whispers, pointing to Nan.] 

Drew. [In stage whisper.] To bed at once. 
[Nan smiles bitterly.] 

Mrs. p. Yes, sir. Pore thing, it's been too 
much for 'er. I don't wonder. 
[Exit Drew.] 

Mrs. p. 'E's gone at last. [To the others.] 
Go on in back to supper. Us'll be with yer in a 
minute. Shut the door. There's sech a draught. 
[They go.] 

Dick. I'll fetch in Miss Nan a bit of supper. 

Mrs. p. It's a pity you don't 'eed the mote 
in yer own eye without 'eedin' the camel in 
yer neighbour's. Go in and see to Jenny. 

Par. Well, Nan, it be a long lane as 'as no 
turning, as they say. I knew thy pore dad 
when us was boys. When us goe'd a nesting 
after ardiestraws. Dear, dear. 'E won the 
prize for kiddy potatoes, and for kiddy beans. 



112 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

I be glad, that I be, to 'ear — wot we've 'eard 
to-night. 

Nan. So you are glad, are you? Glad. 

Mrs. p. If you 'adn't a black 'eart, you'd 
be glad yourself, I should a-thought. Some 
people a-got no feelin's. 

Par. Fifty pound be a lot of money, too. 

Nan. The worth of a man's life 'ad need to 
be a lot of money. 

Par. There's two things you could do with 
all that money. You could put 'er into the 
Bank and that. Or you could — I'd be very glad 
to borrow it of you, to 'elp me on the farm. 
And pay you the interest, like. 

Nan. And if I'd refuse. What then? 

Mrs. p. Refuse? Refuse? I don't doubt 
you give yerself airs. It's wot we'd expect of 
yer— 

Par. [Interrupting.] I'm only asking. — 
To keep it in the family. 



Act im THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 113 

Mrs. p. [To Par.] Asking? Givin^ in to 
'er wills and 'er won'ts. Wot's asking got to do 
with it? 'Ere. You're under age. We're yer 
guardians. We'll take care of that money for 
yer. 

Nan. Yes. You'll want some money, for 
Jenny's portion. 

Par. [Controlling his temper,] I 'aven't 
said nothink yet — 

Mrs. p. No. You 'aven't got the sperrit 
of a 'og with the twitters. 

Par. [Angrily.] I don't want none of yer 
jaw. 

Mrs. p. Don't you nag at me, for I won't 
'ave it. See? 

Nan. The money is mine. Not yours. I 
have a use for it. 

Par. [To Nan.] Then I've done with yer. 
You talk rude to the quality. You give all sorts 
of talk to — Talk as 'd sick a savage. Do wot 



114 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

y^ like with yer money. But you'll make good 
my Toby jug, at least. Now then. 

Nan. Your Toby jug? 

Par. You know wot I mean. 

Nan. Aha. The little friend. My little 
friend. [A cry within.] That's 'er soul's voice 
that cry is. So that is wot — 

Mrs. p. And you 'ad the cold blooded cheek 
to 'ave your go at the parsty, wot's more. 

Par. And — there — I'll leave you to your 
conscience. [Going.] 

Mrs. p. Stop a moment, Will. Us'll settle 
'er with 'er, onst for all. 

Nan. [Going to the money bag and cutting 
its tape.] Yes. We'll settle. Look at it. Look 
at it. [She pours the gold into a heap.] Gold. 
Gold. Little yellow rounds of metal. Fifty 
little yellow rounds of metal. This. This is for 
a man's life. Oh, you little yellow rounds that 
buy things. Look at 'em. Hear 'em. [Pause.] 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 115 

Don't you speak to me. [Intensely.] There 
was a strong man, a kind man. He was forty- 
nine years old. He was the best thatcher in the 
three counties. He was the sweetest singer. 
IVe known teams goin' to the field stop to ^ear 
my dad sing. And the red coats come. And a 
liar swore. And that strong man was killed. 
Sudden. That voice of his'n was choked out 
with a cord. And there was liars, and thieves, 
and drunken women, and dirty gentlemen. 
They all stood in the cold to see that man 
choked. They stop up all night, playing cards, 
so as they should 'ear 'is singin' stopped. For 
it goes round the voice the cord do. And they 
draw a nightcap down so as 'e shan't see 'is girl 
a-crying. [Pause.] And for that, I get little 
yellow round things. [Pause,] And there was 
a girl, a young girl, a girl with a sick 'eart. 
D'you know what came to 'er? You know 
what came to 'er. She came among them as 



116 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN Uct III 

might have made much of 'er. For sheM 'ave 
give a lot for a kind word. 'Er 'eart was that 
broke 'er'd 'ave broke out a-crying at a kind 
word. 

Mrs. p. When you've done with your fal- 
lals, I'll 'ave my say. 

Nan. Don't you speak. Don't you threat- 
en. You'll listen to me. You 'ad me in your 
power. And wot was good in me you sneered 
at. And wot was sweet in me you soured. 
And wot was bright in me you dulled. I was a 
fly in the spider's web. And the web came 
round me and round me, till it was a shroud, till 
there was no more joy in the world. Till my 
'eart was bitter as that ink, and all choked. 
And for that I get little yellow round things. 
[Pause and change of voice.] And all of it — 
No need for any of it. My dad's life, and your 
taunts, and my broke 'eart. All a mistake. A 
mistake. Somethin' to be put right by fifty 



Act im THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 117 

pound while a gentleman waits for a coach. 'E 
thought nothing of it. 'E thought only of get- 
ting the coach. 'E didn't even pretend. [A 
cry within.] It were a game to 'im. 'E laughed 
at it. [A cry within.] Yes. She has seen her- 
self. No wonder she cries. She sees the parish 
dead-cart coming. 

[Dick puts his head in at the door.] 

Dick. Mother. Come to Jenny. Quick. 

Mrs. p. To 'ell with Jenny. I've somethin' 
to attend to 'ere. 

Dick. She's in a fit or somethink. Us can 
'ardly 'old 'er down. 

Mrs. p. [ To Nan.] More of yer work. You 
wait till I come back. 

A Girl. [At the door.] Quick, Mrs. Par- 
getter. 

[Mrs. Pargetter snatches the brandy bottle 
and goes out.] 

Par. I don't know 'ow all this'U end, Nan. 
[He goes out] 



118 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

[Re-enter Dick.] 

Dick. I brought you a little bit o' supper, 
Miss Nan. 

Nan. What then? 

Dick. I thought — Won't you sit down and 
'ave it, Miss Nan? There. Let me put this 
chair comferable. 

Nan. Why do you bring this to me? 

Dick. I thought — some'ow — I thought 
you'd like a bit of cossitin'. 

Nan. I want nothin'. Nothin'. 

Dick. Miss Nan. I want just to say. Some- 
'ow, it be 'ard to explain. But I ask — I ask 
your forgiveness. 'Umbly I ask it. Oh, Miss 
Nan. My beau-ti-vul. My beautivul as I 
wronged. 

Nan. As you wronged. Yes? 

Dick. I was — I dunno — I was led away, 
Miss Nan. 



Act im THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 119 

Nan. Yes, Dick. You were led away. How 
were you led away? Why? 

Dick. I was that. When I 'eard as your 
dad was. I mean when I 'eard of your dad. I 
doan' know. It seemed — I felt some'ow. I 
be that dry I can't 'ardly speak. Miss Nan — 

Nan. You felt some'ow? Yes? 

Dick. As your 'air was, was a cord round 
my throat. Choking. I was sick. I couldn't — 
no — I couldn't. 

Nan. And was that the only reason why? 

Dick. Yes, Miss Nan. 

Nan. And why did you choose Jenny? My 
kiss was still warm upon your lips. [Going to 
him.] Your blood was singing in your veins 
with me, when you turned — ^Why did you turn 
to 'er? 

[A pause.] 
She was not a — a gallus-bird. Eh? 

[A pause. Dick licks his lips and swallows.] 



120 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

[Re-enter Gaffer slowly, with a few roses 
plucked in the garden. He goes to Nan.] 

Gaffer. The moon be at full, wonder. 
The cows in the meadows kneel down. 

The rabbits be kneelin'. The vlowers in the 
edge do kneel — 

Roses for your 'air, my beauty. my bright 
'ansome of the world. 

[He gives the roses reverently.] 

Roses in your 'air. And the bride's 'air loose. 

[Nan places a rose in her hair and loosens it 
about her.] 

Nan. [Taking some money.] For a 'ead- 
stone. Gaffer. [Sharply.] Well, Dick. 

Dick. I was. — 0, I can't. To show that I 
'ad done with yer. I was angry. 

Nan. Because I didn't tell you of my dad? 

Dick. Yes. 

Nan. There be three times, Dick, when no 
woman can speak. Beautiful times. When 'er 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 121 

'ears 'er lover, and when 'er gives 'erself, and 
when 'er little one is born. You — You'd have 
been the first to stop me if I'd spoken then. 

Dick. I thought as you'd — not been straight 
— I thought — 

Nan. And now you turn again from Jenny. 
Why have you left Jenny, Dick? 

Gaffer. [Jangling and counting money.] 

"Nine. 'Ow the bells do chime, 

Ten. There's a path for men." 

Dick. Because I don't care for 'er. Because 
now — 

Gaffer. 'Leven. From the earth to 'eaven. 

Dick. Be quiet. Gaffer. 

Nan. Because? 

Dick. 0, Miss Nan. It be you as I love. 
My dad 'ave stop me afore. But now your 
name be cleared — 

Nan. Is that the only reason? 

Gaffer. [Talking through.] 



122 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN {Act III 

Twelve. Twelve. Us rang out a peal 

at twelve. Angels. Gold angels. The 

devil walks the dark at twelve. Ghosts. 

Ghosts. Behind the white 'edstones. 

Smite 'em, gold rider. Smite 'em with thy 

bright sharp spear. 

Nan. Is that the only reason? You love 

me, then? 

Dick. Yes. That's the only reason. I love 
you, Nan. 

Nan. And what will my aunt say? 
Dick. Damn 'er. It's 'er that came be- 
tween us. 
Nan. I know what you can say to 'er. 
Dick. What? 

Nan. Go to her now. Take her that bag of 
money. Tell her she may have that. But that 
you will marry me, not Jenny. 

[Dick, rather staggered, takes up the hag 
and walks slowly to door.] 



Act Iin THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 123 

Dick. Wouldn't it be better, Miss Nan, if 
us — if us just told 'er, without — without bein' — 

Nan. I knew it. I knew it. 

[A horn is heard faintly off.] 

Gaffer. There be a music on the sea, a soft 
music. The ships be troubled at the music. 

Nan. Come here, Dick. They said my dad 
kill a sheep. A foundered old ewe as'd feel 
nothin' ; 'ardly the knife on 'er throat. And my 
dad was 'ung ; only acos they said 'e kill a beast 
like that. They choked 'im dead, in front of 
'alf a city. But you come. And you 'ave yer 
. love of a girl. You says lovely things to 'er. 
Things as'd move any girl — and only because 
you be greedy. Greedy of a mouth agen your 
mouth ; of a girl's lips babblin' love at you. And 
a sour old woman's word'll make you 'it that 
girl across the lips you kissed. In ten minutes. 
You'll take 'er lovin' 'eart and 'er girl's pride, 
and all 'er joy in the world, and stamp it in the 



124 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

dust. And you'll dance on 'er white body ; and 
all you'll feel is the blood makin' a mess on your 
boots. 

[The horn blows nearer.] 

Gaffer. The horn. The horn. O night owl 
laughing in the wood. 

Nan. And you go to another girl. And you 
give 'er a joy in the world. And then you see 
your old love not wot the old woman said. No. 
But as sweet to the taste, as dear to your greedy 
mouth. And with gold — yellow round things 
— to buy vanity. 'Ouses, 'orses, position. Then 
you come back whining. Whining! For 'er to 
take you back. So as you mid 'ave that gold. 

Dick. 0, you can talk. You've a right. 
But I love you, Nan. I do love yer. 

Nan. I see very plain to-night, Dick. I see 
right, right into you. Right down. You talk o' 
thieves. You talk o' them as kills — them as 
leads women wrong. Sinners you calls them. 



Act nil THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 125 

But it be you is the sinner. You kill people's 
'earts. You stamp them in the dust, like worms 
as you tread on in the fields. And under it all 
will be the women crying, the broken women, 
the women cast aside. Tramped on. Spat on. 
As you spat on me. No, no, oh no. Oh young 
man in your beauty — Young man in your 
strong hunger. I will spare those women. 

Dick. [Scared, and speaking loudly, so as 
to attract them in the inner room.] I never! 
Mother! Mother! 

Gaffer. Love you be a King. A King. 

Nan. I will spare those women. Come here 
to me. 

Dick. Ah! Ah! Mother! [He backs 
towards the door.] 

Gaffer. On the road. They come. Gold 
hoofs. Gold hoofs. 

Nan. Spare them. Spare them. Spare 
them the hell. The hell of the heart-broken. 



126 THE TRAGEDY OF NAN [Act III 

Die — you — die. [She stabs him with the pastry 
knife. He falls.] 

Dick. [Raising himself stupidly.] The 
drums be a-roaring. A-roaring. [He dies.] 

Gaffer. [Clapping his hands.] Oh Beauty, 
beauty. Oh beauty of my white vlower. 

[A murmuring and rushing noise is heard as 
the tide sweeps up from the sea.] 

Gaffer. [Shouts.] It be coming. Out of 
the wells of the sea. The eagles of the sea hear 
it. They sharp their beaks. 

[Enter hurriedly the others.] 

Mrs. p. [Running to Dick.] Dick. Dick. 
Oh! [Screams.] Look at it all smoking. 

Par. 'Ere. The brandy. Quick. 'E's gone. 

Nan. [As the noise increases.] The tide. 

Gaffer. The tide. 

Nan. [Laughing.] The tide coming up the 
river. 



Act III] THE TRAGEDY OF NAN 127 

Mrs. p. Take the money, Will. Don't 'eed 
the brandy. 

A Girl. The pleece, Artie. Get the pleece. 

Nan. [Going to the door as the noise in- 
creases.] A strange fish in the nets to-morrow. 
[She goes.] 

Gaffer. Singing. Singing. Roaring it 
come. Roaring it come. Over the breast. Over 
the lips. Over the eyes. 

[The horn blows.] 

Mrs. p. [Putting the money hastily in the 
locker.] That's something. Wot are we to tell 
them? 

[The coach-horn blows loudly and clearly.] 

Gaffer. The horn ! The horn ! 

CURTAIN 



